All four people moved a little nervously into the drawing-room, maintaining a sort of fluttered amiability of sound and movement. “You had only to ask——” “Do you think,” Anna interrupted, with a note of passion trembling also in her tone, “that I would have taken alms from Sir John, the man to whom I had lied for your sake. Modern, indeed! She was going to be as primordial as chipped flint. ” Even in the glamour of Miss Brett’s assurance it seemed to Ann Veronica that this was, after all, no more than the gospel of Miss Miniver with a new set of resonances.
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