He had died before they married, and when her brother became a widower she had come to his assistance and taken over much of the care of his youngest daughter. Miss Miniver looked out on the world through large emotional blue eyes that were further magnified by the glasses she wore, and her nose was pinched and pink, and her mouth was whimsically petulant. ‘Cajolery? This is not your style. Brown. He was alert, well-groomed, and yet—perhaps in contrast with the more volatile French type—there was a suggestion of weight about him, not to say heaviness.
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