Father-worshipping sons are abnormal— and they’re no good. “You’re Glorious!” said Miss Miniver in tones of rapture, holding a hand in each of hers and peering up into Ann Veronica’s face. She felt she had stepped into a world of unknown usages. "Yes, now," rejoined the infuriated dame; "perhaps, I may never have another opportunity. It was hard to gain weight when you hated to eat. The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket.
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