But he was so feeble, that it seemed scarcely possible he could offer any effectual resistance in case of an attack. Well, I don't blame you on that ground. Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. As it is, we've only a couple of ducks—and they were intended for you.
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