That dress she has on—my mother might have worn it. " "Spare him! spare him!" cried Mrs. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. She found it extremely difficult to infuse an air of quiet correctitude into her return through the window, and when she was safely inside she waved clinched fists and executed a noiseless dance of rage. Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully.
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