And Miss Miniver fell discussing whether Goopes or Bernard Shaw or Tolstoy or Doctor Tumpany or Wilkins the author had the more powerful and perfect mind in existence at the present time. The same old lines and verses, over and over, until there had come times when shrieking would have relieved her. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. I'm a poor nurse. . No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky.
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