” There came a silence again. Her heart in her mouth, hoping against hope, Melusine made her way back to where she had left the boy. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. ’ Lucy giggled. Cautiously stepping outside, he looked up towards the terrace.
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