The screams of the unfortunate woman had aroused Thames from his slumbers. She then opened Lucy’s meager closet and plucked out a pair of heeled boots usually reserved for weddings and funerals. Sometimes I try to talk. She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame.
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