Before her stretched blank spaces, dotted with running people coming toward her, and below them railings and a statue. And at last Ann Veronica and Miss Miniver came down the dark staircase and out into the foggy spaces of the London squares, and crossed Russell Square, Woburn Square, Gordon Square, making an oblique route to Ann Veronica’s lodging. “If you wish,” he said, “I will go there in the morning and see what can be done for him. If only this man had been her father! The world would have meant nothing; the island would have been wide enough. We’re partly human beings and partly females in suspense.
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