The last of Jarvis’s harlots must have departed in a hurry, for she had apparently left a roomful of clothes. Balked, Melusine halted. She wished she could steal his smiles and keep them in a box, they had always been so precious. In a few seconds, the shutter flew open,—then the window,—and they were in the room. ‘Merci, dieu. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame.
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