” “Of course you don’t,” said Miss Miniver, gesticulating triumphantly with her thin hand and thinner wrist, and patting Ann Veronica’s knee. She crept out of the shadows. “Idiotic, isn’t it?” “Absolutely,” she agreed coldly. She saw marks in the dirt where he had been pacing. "No," rejoined Thames, "I won't be treated like a common felon, if I can help it. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. You were wide the mark, physically; otherwise you had him pat. My servant. She dismissed the idea of doing so. Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face. The rest was easy.
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