And at last Ann Veronica and Miss Miniver came down the dark staircase and out into the foggy spaces of the London squares, and crossed Russell Square, Woburn Square, Gordon Square, making an oblique route to Ann Veronica’s lodging. "Of yourself," he replied, in a mournful tone. She clenched her hands together and leaned forward in her chair, gazing steadily into the fire. “That’s not. ‘Don’t tell me. “Like a stab.
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