” The lady in black satin looked at the pile of luggage outside and hesitated. " "Have you told him so?" she inquired, reproachfully. "There's the exact expression I want. So Ruth took another step toward her destination, which we in our vanity call destiny. Gray and tranquil world! Amazing, passionless world! A world in which days without meaning, days in which “we don’t want things to happen” followed days without meaning—until the last thing happened, the ultimate, unavoidable, coarse, “disagreeable. There’d only be endless rows if I was at home. It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them. ” “DUSTING!” said Miss Miniver, in a sepulchral voice. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth. ” He reeled out of the room.
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