“You asked me in to tea,” he protested. She saw his eyes glaze over. Miss Miniver looked out on the world through large emotional blue eyes that were further magnified by the glasses she wore, and her nose was pinched and pink, and her mouth was whimsically petulant. “Suppose, for example, I go to this dance?” “You won’t. May I do so to-day?” “It’s your gate,” she said, amiably; “you got it first.
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