There was no need to be afraid for me. “I was watching you at Morningside Park, dear,” said Miss Miniver. At least, you are one, and I am disguised like one. Those who had seen him slumbering, averred that he slept with his eyes open. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. But at last this ordeal was over, and Ramage opened the door.
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