. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. That dress she has on—my mother might have worn it. “I’m so glad my Mom’s letting me go out tonight. "Upon him!" "Yield, villain, or die!" shouted Thames, drawing his sword and springing towards him.
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