Ruth returned to the table. “This is all rot!” he declared angrily. He pretended to be unaware of the mishap. Anything. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. There was question in Gerald’s gaze as it met hers, and apology in his voice. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. Yet he’s been here for six years, and he’s as much a fixture as that sham mahogany sideboard.
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