“I am sorry,” she said, “if you find the likeness unsatisfactory. "You've got him?" demanded Ireton. “How shall I put the question? What am I? What have I got to do with myself?. Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. I'll test him out later; see if there is any craving. You are without sense and not sympathique in the least.
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