He could not tell by the look of her whether she was glad or sorry that presently she would be free. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. ” Michelle opened the door. It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. The world into which she was so boldly venturing was going to be wonderful, but never so wonderful as the world within these paper covers.
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