She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance. Inquiring for Mrs. “Oh, I am lonely,” she moaned. ” She finished her breakfast and strolled out across the garden with the letters still in her hand. And at last Ann Veronica and Miss Miniver came down the dark staircase and out into the foggy spaces of the London squares, and crossed Russell Square, Woburn Square, Gordon Square, making an oblique route to Ann Veronica’s lodging.
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