This lady was singularly lucky in her matrimonial connections. Stanley regarded his neighbor’s clean-shaven face almost warily. She felt she must get him talking upon some impersonal theme at any cost. “No Christmas dinner,” she said, “or anything nice! One doesn’t even know what you are doing. . Somewhere, where we can talk without interruption. The danger you put yourself in by remaining here astounds me. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. It may not be just, it may not be fair, but things are so. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill.
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