We were to live in some wretched London suburb. Mr. “I suppose,” said her father, “I have read at least half the novels that have been at all successful during the last twenty years. ” “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.
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