Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was
bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon
rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the
purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a
dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as
Miss Miniver. “Dear me! I wonder where Sir John picked her up. I will write to your major, and
you will send the letter very quickly. “I want my life to be
beaten gold just in order to make it a fitting setting for yours. “Yes, but I act older than I look. After all, what can it matter? It was just to make sure. At once. But it annoyed
Ann Veronica. Once he chuckled aloud. On the walls were noticeboards bearing clusters of newspaper slips, three or four big posters of monster
meetings, one of which Ann Veronica had attended with Miss Miniver, and a
series of announcements in purple copying-ink, and in one corner was a pile of
banners.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 01-07-2024 15:49:39