Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully. “Let me think,” said Ann Veronica. No mother would have sent her daughter into the world with such a wardrobe. They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. You shall not take me alive. How she hated talking of the man who was responsible for her being brought into the world. “I’ll get dressed. As if we didn’t know! The practical trouble is our ages.
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