Seemed like he knew so much—more than me, miss. And nowhere could I obtain the slightest information. Miss Miniver looked out on the world through large emotional blue eyes that were further magnified by the glasses she wore, and her nose was pinched and pink, and her mouth was whimsically petulant. And as a natural consequence, they don’t do so well, and they don’t get on—and so the world doesn’t pay them. The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes.
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