” “Got a photograph of him or anything?” said Ann Veronica, after kissing her mother. And at last Ann Veronica and Miss Miniver came down the dark staircase and out into the foggy spaces of the London squares, and crossed Russell Square, Woburn Square, Gordon Square, making an oblique route to Ann Veronica’s lodging. That would be myself, or if she lived, Mary’s daughter. I made her my unwilling confederate. In the chapel she sang with an open-lunged gusto that silenced Ann Veronica altogether, and in the exercising-yard slouched round with carelessly dispersed feet.
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