His face was wreathed in smiles, his beringed hand was cordially outstretched. This started a thought moving. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. He smiled grandly; she could feel the radiance of his approval from across the wedding table. Sheppard's weight had destroyed the equilibrium of the plank: it swerved, and slowly descended.
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