Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window. It has something to do with the fact that my Mom had them when she was only seventeen. "I hope you don't imagine anything has gone wrong, Sir. ” “No,” cried Miss Miniver, almost vehemently. Her voice recalled him. This is a tale of two young fools. " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss. You're alone, too, child. Only she was conscious of an unfamiliar and wonderful emotion.
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