“This is MY thing,” said Ann Veronica, softly, with thoughtful eyes upon him. Ah! but you can’t imagine what you are to me and what you mean to me! I suppose there is something mystical and wonderful about all women. Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully. In nearly every speech she heard was the same implication of great and necessary changes in the world—changes to be won by effort and sacrifice indeed, but surely to be won. "You call in vain," rejoined Thames. “Let us walk across the Park at least,” he said to Ann Veronica. "How very like it is!" "Not so strange, surely," laughed Thames, "that a picture should resemble the person for whom it's intended. I think you’re wrong. The father, granite; the daughter, fire: Spurlock saw the one and heard the other, his amazement indescribable. "That's a fine tale," said Spurlock. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or alive.
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