She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew warm and wet with tears. She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience. She stood there with white set face and nervously clenched fingers. ” “Tolstoy is so good about this,” said Miss Miniver, regardless of her friend’s attitude.
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