Before her was a great Gothic portal. “For seven years,” said Ann Veronica, “I have been trying to keep myself from thinking about love. It did not cheer or fortify him with false courage and recklessness; it simply enveloped him in a mist of unreality. 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. She could not move. Then suddenly, in front of all those windows, he folded her in his arms and pressed her to him, and kissed her unresisting face. Both started. Try something. Every time he left a room, she chastised herself bitterly for her own profound weakness. Sir John was not used to such glances, and he liked them. The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses. “I throw it out in passing,” he said.
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