Teddy Widgett hovered on the fringe of all these gatherings, blinking at Ann Veronica and occasionally making a wildly friendly dash at her, and carrying her and Miss Miniver off to drink cocoa with a choice diversity of other youthful and congenial Fabians after the meetings. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. She placed the freezer back on top of Ray Plote's old hiding place, now his permanent resting place. As to his mother, I've no pity for her.
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