“The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. ” There was never any shortage of bad men to eat, especially with pestilence and superstition to cover their tracks. She had never experienced anything so disagreeable in her life as the sense of being held helplessly off her feet. Then, one night, he glanced up to behold Ruth and Rollo in the doorway. While he was thus standing, the flames of his house, which made the whole street as light as day, and ruddily illumined the faces of the mob below, betrayed him to them, and he was speedily driven from his position by a shower of stones and other missiles. Ruth and Spurlock separated, the one embarrassed, the other utterly dumfounded. I did not have to dig deep in my imagination to create the status-obsessed suburban environment of Lucy’s modern milieu.
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