’ ‘So you think she is an émigré?’ Lucilla put in before the incensed Roding could respond. Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully. Happily they had no one else to wait for, and it heartened her mightily to think that she had ordered the promptest possible service of the dinner. But with Gosse and the woman in prison here, there is always the chance that the whole affair may be raked up all over again. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things.
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