Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully. And before Kneebone could draw his sword, he felled him to the ground with the iron bar. A vague desire to justify himself ruffled her father. He wore a silk hat a little tilted, and a morning coat buttoned round a tight, contained figure; and a white slip gave a finish to his costume and endorsed the quiet distinction of his tie. There were always parrots and parrakeets screaming in the fruit groves.
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