You’re like some splendid Princess in Exile in these Dreadful Dingy apartments!” “I’m afraid I’m anything but a Princess when it comes to earning a salary,” said Ann Veronica. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. Her bonnet dropped off and was trampled into the gutter. Everything, Miss Miniver said, was “working up,” everything was “coming on”—the Higher Thought, the Simple Life, Socialism, Humanitarianism, it was all the same really. . I can’t explain—” They regarded one another, each blinded to the other. . ” “I had to,” she repeated. No breakfast, he’s had no dinner, hardly a mouthful of soup— since yesterday at tea.
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