What Miss Miniver would have called the Higher Truth supervenes. “We settled long ago—we’re hard stuff. Her anger died and she eyed him. The Old Mint. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. 175 “Before you tell me the whole story,” she emphasized the penultimate word, “just let me do something for you. She quickened her pace, and so did he, talking at her slightly averted ear. A shaft of searing heat plunged downward.
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