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Around her neck was a little gold chain. 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. And—the idea of committees, of hustings, of agenda-papers!” “I don’t see why the responsibility of beauty should all be shifted on to the women,” said Ann Veronica, suddenly remembering a part of Miss Miniver’s discourse. He was the junior of both his sisters, co-educated and much broken in to feminine society. A very familiar face emerged from a crowd at the impromptu bar on the kitchen island. After Gwen!” “I sent a telegram.
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