“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. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. “Do you think it is fair of you to persecute me just now?” “It is not persecution, Anna,” he answered gently. Can you imagine how dreadful it must be for them? Most of them arrive here almost penniless. ” “I resent!” “I was only sorry I’d been so stupid. “How did you hear that?” Lucy’s brows knitted. Her own pack was so light that she left it in the locker.
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