" "My poor son!" groaned the widow, sinking backwards. ‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave. Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully. ” She wondered how much history she could reinvent before losing track of her own lies. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. As this had been Mrs. "How much is there in it!" "It contains gold," replied the lady; "but I will add this ring. ” “Do what?” “Oh!—anything. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. “Not too bad. ” “Annabel, are you mad? To England! You are joking, of course.
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