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I am not boring you, am I?” She raised her eyes to his and smiled into his face. But you must allow me to observe, my good Sir, that you're wholly in the wrong respecting my friend. “Of course,” said Miss Miniver—she went on in a regularly undulating voice —“we DO please men. Both of them. "He lives at Dollis Hill, a beautiful spot near Willesden, about four or five miles from town, where he has taken a farm. ‘Gérard—’ ‘What now?’ he asked, rife with suspicion. When he comes he will do that raid of the pantechnicons the justice it deserves; he will picture the orderly evening scene about the Imperial Legislature in convincing detail, the coming and going of cabs and motor-cabs and broughams through the chill, damp evening into New Palace Yard, the reinforced but untroubled and unsuspecting police about the entries of those great buildings whose square and panelled Victorian Gothic streams up from the glare of the lamps into the murkiness of the night; Big Ben shining overhead, an unassailable beacon, and the incidental traffic of Westminster, cabs, carts, and glowing omnibuses going to and from the bridge. "No!" she cried.
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This video was uploaded to woodsdrivingschool.com on 22-09-2024 03:31:08
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