“The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. She had a compartment to herself in the train from London to Morningside Park, and she sat with both her feet on the seat in an attitude that would certainly have distressed her mother to see, and horrified her grandmother beyond measure; she sat with her knees up to her chin and her hands clasped before them, and she was so lost in thought that she discovered with a start, from a lettered lamp, that she was at Morningside Park, and thought she was moving out of the station, whereas she was only moving in. Her girl Clarice was next, dying within a single day, blood leaking from her pretty brown eyes like an image of the Blessed Virgin. The girl was flushed with excitement, bright-eyed, and braced for a struggle; her aunt had never seen her looking so fine or so pretty. But next moment, Captain Roding put up her back. This was irregular. He came along, he said, just to call, with large, loud apologies, radiantly kind and good. ” Lucy rubbed Michelle on the shoulder.
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