He carried her in his arms up the steps, like a bride on her honeymoon. The figure she had longed to see came into her line of vision, but at this crucial moment of hideous realisation, Melusine barely took it in, her eyes fixing blankly on the man behind. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. Something insisted that those two were mysteriously linked—that the woman knew the man was there.
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