She charged boldly into the space of Miss Miniver’s rhetorical pause. “Too bad to keep you waiting,” Annabel exclaimed. The night was now advancing, and the party began to think of separating. “My dear boy,” she exclaimed. The chapel was crowded to excess. She thought of her father in the garden, and of her aunt with her Patience, as she had seen them—how many ages was it ago? Just one day intervened.
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