“Everybody is taking it up,” said Miss Miniver. Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. For thirty years I have lived alone; but once upon a time I lived among men. I change them in the morning at Cannon Street, and take my book as I come down. It was wonderful to think this thing had lived, had felt and suffered. You have taken my dagger.
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