Sheppard, shuddering violently. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. “I want a vote for myself,” she said. Her brother Roddy, who was in the motor line, came to expostulate; her sister Alice wrote. And at last Ann Veronica and Miss Miniver came down the dark staircase and out into the foggy spaces of the London squares, and crossed Russell Square, Woburn Square, Gordon Square, making an oblique route to Ann Veronica’s lodging. When they reached the door, he kissed her 246 again. Outside the door stood one of the soldiers. “Are you cold?” He asked her, cocking his head to one side like a puppy, so close that the heat of his words warmed her cheek. —Gentlemen, your most obsequious trout. He stopped short of a group of adolescent saplings and turned the ignition off. .
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