She held out her arms to him and smiled. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. It is like a second honeymoon. “I wrote it for you. I never made any effort to touch them; so by and by they learned to light fearlessly on my arms and shoulders. When she awoke from a pleasant dream an hour later, she was shocked to find herself restrained in a bed that was not hers and not the inn’s. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said.
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