” “Of course you don’t,” said Miss Miniver, gesticulating triumphantly with her thin hand and thinner wrist, and patting Ann Veronica’s knee. She opened it and drew out a letter, and folded within it were the notes she had sent off to Ramage that day. The gardens were tidy and geometric, each avenue with a different purpose: flowers for cutting, herbs, brightly colored vegetables. Marry, come up! I'll see who's to be obeyed. So he's come around, then? That's fine. If the young ladies were dowerless, which seemed likely, their attire at least—so Lucilla assured him in a whisper—was of the first stare.
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