“The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. It had been very peaceful in the little cave for countless years. She had very frizzy hair indeed, very black eyebrows, a profusion of metallic adornments about her neck and waist, and an engaging smile. " "How so?" asked the other, distrustfully. Charcoal. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. All these circumstances,—slight in themselves, but powerful in their effect,—touched the heart of the widowed carpenter, and added to his depression. " "Ship her back to her father"—sagely.
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