" "Well, well—wait awhile," returned Quilt; "his lordship won't forget you. They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. Very well, I give up. ” Ann Veronica sat with her chin on her hand, red-lit and saying little, and Miss Miniver discoursed. Few approached the émigrés directly, preferring to stare covertly from behind their fans, while pretending to admire the simple elegance of Lady Bicknacre’s neo-classical refurbishments.
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