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” “It’s all the same,” said Miss Miniver. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. Remote little Ann Veronica! She would never know the heart of that child again! That child had loved fairy princes with velvet suits and golden locks, and she was in love with a real man named Capes, with little gleams of gold on his cheek and a pleasant voice and firm and shapely hands. A struggle of the most terrific kind now ensued. ” He said admiringly. ’ He sighed. “It’s not. And from that they came back by way of the Kreutzer Sonata and Resurrection to Tolstoy again.
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