But it was very hard to follow. “Through there,” he said, and pointed with the pamphlet he was carrying. He was not quite sure whether, after all, he had been wise. It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. She didn’t like the shops, she didn’t like the other women’s faces; she thought the smirking men in frock-coats who dominated these establishments the most intolerable persons she had ever had to face. She charged boldly into the space of Miss Miniver’s rhetorical pause.
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