" "Where—where?" cried Thames. Kneebone in a conciliatory tone. Her cheeks were aflame. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. I saw the motor dashed to pieces against the wall, and I saw him pitched on his head into the road. It was a work of no slight danger, for every instant a wall, or fragment of a building, came crashing to the ground. She had now the clear and tranquil expression of one whose mind is made up.
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