“Dreadful women, my dear!” said Miss Stanley. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his
coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be
nigh. “I’m fine,” she said softly. A dozen words, and he saw Enschede as clearly as
though he stood hard by in the flesh. So I fear there's little chance of any one getting it. —I do not congratulate you on your success. She thought
of her aunt and that purse that was dropped on the table, and of many
troublesome and ill-requited kindnesses; she thought of the help of the Widgetts,
of Teddy’s admiration; she thought, with a new-born charity, of her father, of
Manning’s conscientious unselfishness, of Miss Miniver’s devotion.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 04-07-2024 03:03:33