" Spurlock lowered his voice. If my Mom found out, she’d kill me. Somebody may be on the watch—perhaps, that old ginger-hackled Jew. ‘It is London’s loss, ma’am. 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. There were menacing possibilities; the thought of them set him a-tremble. “We are not the sort that goes under,” said Ann Veronica, holding her hands so that the red reflections vanished from her eyes.
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