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Then one old crone, short-sighted and shaky-handed, called Ann Veronica “dearie,” and made some remark, obscure and slangy, of which the spirit rather than the words penetrated to her understanding. ” He referred to a sheet of paper by his side. 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. In reply to this summons a horn was instantly blown at the corner of the street. I have said that I am but a nun now. Wood, delighted at the idea. I thank God for the beauty you love and the faults you love.
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