” “Thousands of women have married merely for freedom,” said Miss Miniver. ” For some creditable moments in her life Ann Veronica was utterly disgusted with herself; she was wrung with a passionate and belated desire to move gently, to speak softly and ambiguously—to be, in effect, prim. “So you’d best open your coffers. This is not the conduct of a jeune demoiselle. I didn’t think—I don’t know what I thought. ‘You put that thing away now, missie. ’ ‘Well, sir? Who is “she”? Not my granddaughter, I take it. ” Annabel’s hand stole into his. Robbed of their prey, the fury of the mob became ungovernable.
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