She brought her hands up to her head and ripped out two long chunks of her hair, pulling out shreds of scalp. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. She had nothing to say for herself. "How do I know you are a friend?" asked Darrell. "Ah!" she screamed, seeing the uplifted weapon in Sheppard's hand, "don't hurt Thames—don't, dear Jack! If you want to kill somebody, kill me, not him. When I absorb a fact, my brain weighs the fact carefully and stores it away. . Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully.
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