. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. Gerald, I mean, not Madame Valade. “I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice. Wood. “I’ll be here at one in the morning. But, urged by his wife's cries, who was more anxious for the preservation of her child's life than her own, he snatched up the infant, and made his escape from the back of the premises.
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