“Yes?” “You remember once, how we talked—at a gate on the Downs? We talked about how a girl might get an independent living. What is it you’re after? Money, I suppose. ” “I can’t be portentous, dear, when you’re about. He kissed her fingers and grinned. Once a week, every Saturday, they had a little gathering from nine till the small hours, just talk and perhaps reading aloud and fruitarian refreshments—chestnut sandwiches buttered with nut tose, and so forth—and lemonade and unfermented wine; and to one of these symposia Miss Miniver after a good deal of preliminary solicitude, conducted Ann Veronica. She pointed suddenly at the portrait. “My husband knows all. “You see,” he said, “you are like an inaccessible gold-mine in all this sort of matter. “No!” he said aloud at last.
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