" "Didn't the natives have a name for you?" She blushed. "I've waited supper, you perceive. “And I have dragged you all over here for nothing,” she murmured. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent. “And what is it all about, Veronica?” he asked, with a deliberate note of irony, looking at her a little quizzically over his glasses. With one or two exceptions, there were no pews; and, as the intercourse with London was then but slight, the seats were occupied almost exclusively by the villagers.
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