You didn’t even do that Vee; not even that. “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. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. Her relationship with John had made her the object of desire for scores of teenage boys who had dared not previously think of her in such a way.
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