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Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. For such of us as pretend to be wise—and we are but fools in a lesser degree—we know that humanity moves onward only by the impellant of fine dreams. It was an uproarious affair, for Rollo now knew that he had been grieviously betrayed: they were trying to kill him in a new way.
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