“The first person you love, Ann Veronica, is yourself—get hold of that! The soul you have to save is Ann Veronica’s soul. “To my chagrin, I have. But it never said: "Tell someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral pervert, then? Was it what he had lost—the familiar world—rather than what he had done? He stared dully at the footrail. “In Paris our lives were far apart, and we had seldom the same friends. “It has been proved,” said Miss Miniver, and added, “by American professors. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. ” “Did any one see you leave the flat?” he asked. “Poor little Miniver! What can she be but what she is?. “And besides,” said Ann Veronica, sweeping that aspect aside, “what could I do? A boy sails out into a trade or profession. “To Hell if we don’t change our ways. " "Thank'ee,—thank'ee.
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