” She rested the firing end of the cannon against her own temple. Then she saw him. She was greatly exercised by the problem of confiding in the Widgetts; they were dears, and she talked away two evenings with Constance without broaching the topic; she made some vague intimations in letters to Miss Miniver that Miss Miniver failed to mark. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. Och! many a mug o' bubb have I drained wi' the landlord, Joe Hind.
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