The mighty concourse became for a moment still. She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. Here, where every element of her surroundings was tawdry and commonplace, and before this young man of vulgar origin and appearance, it was striking. He became primitive, literal in his conception; the ramifications were, for the nonce, fairly relegated to limbo. Give us that—” Ann Veronica came in with a certain disregard of Miss Miniver. It is queer how ideas pop into one's head. .
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