” “Poor you!” said Ann Veronica. Father-worshipping sons are abnormal— and they’re no good. She always left the table when they began to smoke. Throughout the afternoon, while the doctor was giving her the first lesson out of his profound knowledge of life, her interest would break away continually, despite her honest efforts to pin it down to the facts so patiently elucidated for her. And talking of every conceivable thing. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. “I believe it is.
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