“You’re Glorious!” said Miss Miniver in tones of rapture, holding a hand in each of hers and peering up into Ann Veronica’s face. " "Well, Sir," gasped Mrs. "You thank Heaven for the escape of the man who did his best to get your child's neck twisted. " "That's better. Later, when they returned home, she would serve as the topic of many conversations. She pulled, he rose to his feet. There was a wild light in her eye, and her straight hair was out demonstrating and suffragetting upon some independent notions of its own. “Perhaps, as I’ve only just arrived,” she remarked, “I might be forgiven if I do not change my skirt. Somehow her walk home with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic rejection, a slamming.
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