He had shaved his side-whiskers and come over in flannels, but he was still indisputably the same person who had attended Ann Veronica for the measles and when she swallowed the fish-bone. One point in her narrative stood out beyond all others. “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 then stamped upon the hand on the lower bannister, until that also relaxed its gripe. He gripped the window-sill behind him.
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