“Veronique!” she cried with a rising intonation, though never before had she called Ann Veronica anything but Miss Stanley, and seized her and squeezed her and kissed her with profound emotion. Let’s go on climbing now. ‘The man’s gone,’ her old nurse told her, when she had recovered a little. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. “I don’t believe there is one.
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