” She said in Lucy’s direction. I don’t think they do matter. Little things, almost impalpable, had happened to justify that doubt; something in his manner had belied his words. It was—in connection with this man Hill. She had to make sure, for the peace of her mind, that this was really the man. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame.
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