Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. " "Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able to credit his senses. Ruth could not be told now. She had treated him badly; she had hurt him and her aunt; she had done wrong by their standards, and she would never persuade them that she had done right. ” “That’s rather a fine sort of holiday!” He made no answer for three or four seconds. ’ With difficulty, Gerald bit back a laugh. And—the idea of committees, of hustings, of agenda-papers!” “I don’t see why the responsibility of beauty should all be shifted on to the women,” said Ann Veronica, suddenly remembering a part of Miss Miniver’s discourse. "I shouldn't wonder," replied Mrs.
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