“Everybody is taking it up,” said Miss Miniver. C. His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright. You fell in at once with her quixotic and damnable scheme of foisting her reputation and her follies upon your shoulders whilst she marries a rich man and commences all over again a life of selfish pleasure. Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. You might have spared yourself many useless journeys and disappointments, and us a good deal of anxiety. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. We married, and for a time we were happy. Buck up. All the same, I wish I had that fellow by the throat! Just the virile, unregenerate man in me wishes that. "Well, Lady Trafford," he said, fixing a severe look upon her.
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