‘No mistaking you this time. ” “We’ve both fallen on our feet! We’re the rarest of mortals! The real thing! There’s not a compromise nor a sham nor a concession between us. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. Once a week, every Saturday, they had a little gathering from nine till the small hours, just talk and perhaps reading aloud and fruitarian refreshments—chestnut sandwiches buttered with nut tose, and so forth—and lemonade and unfermented wine; and to one of these symposia Miss Miniver after a good deal of preliminary solicitude, conducted Ann Veronica. "Auntie?" he cried. ‘Here she is. His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended.
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