The night was now profoundly dark. "You will be wanting your broth, Hoddy," she said. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. Sheppard, passing her hand across her brow; "but my memory is gone—quite gone. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame.
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