She often found herself absorbed by watching the tall grass undulate from the cave’s central doorway as solitary hunters prowled for buffalo and stag on the plain. Sometimes these dreams are simple and tender; sometimes they are magnificent. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. “Who is there to care and—John. "He shan't trouble you further. ’ ‘No, sister, I know that, but—’ ‘You needn’t tell me.
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