He had invited himself to dine with her merely to watch her table manners. ” “Couldn’t I make a treaty?” Ann Veronica thought, and could not see any possible treaty that would leave it open for her to have quasi-surreptitious dinners with Ramage or go on walking round the London squares discussing Socialism with Miss Miniver toward the small hours. So long as she could remember, her father had never permitted her to sit at the table unless she came fully dressed. She felt draggled and insulted beyond redemption.
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