Anna, I listened to all that he had to say, and I called to him to let me get out. Sooner or later we’ll certainly do something to clean those prisons you told me about—limewash the underside of life. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue. 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. Lucy stood relieved that she had not messed up the solo.
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