ToC "How do you mean to act, Sir?" inquired Trenchard, as soon as they were left alone. " A deep indignant groan followed. ‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless. They decided quite audibly, “She’s an Old Dear, anyhow. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. His hand shook so violently that he dropped the handkerchief; and he let it lie on the floor because he dared not stoop. “Like him who stood on Darien I view uncharted sea Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights Before my Queen and me. Mr. ‘The man’s gone,’ her old nurse told her, when she had recovered a little. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. The very facts that Miss Miniver never stated an argument clearly, that she was never embarrassed by a sense of self-contradiction, and had little more respect for consistency of statement than a washerwoman has for wisps of vapor, which made Ann Veronica critical and hostile at their first encounter in Morningside Park, became at last with constant association the secret of Miss Miniver’s growing influence.
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