All along the wooden benches before it sat a profusion of soldiery, a collection of barbers in attendance, busily employed in replaiting and powdering their hair ready for a military review scheduled for this afternoon. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. "My wife and daughter, Sir," said the carpenter, introducing them to his guest. Some day I'm going to paint her; but that will be when I've retired.
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