“I can’t imagine it,” said Miss Miniver. ” Mr. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. Do you think it’s nothing to me to have my daughter running about London looking for odd jobs and disgracing herself?” “Sha’n’t get odd jobs,” said Ann Veronica, wiping her eyes. "England or France, London or Paris, it's all one to me, so I've you to command me. " "So she may," returned Jack, brightening up; "it's a good idea.
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