What the devil is the matter, Dunster?” “I beg your pardon, sir,” the man answered, “there is a lady here to see you. And—the idea of committees, of hustings, of agenda-papers!” “I don’t see why the responsibility of beauty should all be shifted on to the women,” said Ann Veronica, suddenly remembering a part of Miss Miniver’s discourse. It was dangerous for her to dare approaching him and she knew the tremendous risk she was taking, but a part of her demanded that he be found. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees.
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