“I have to go out. “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. All the initial confidence in herself was gone; her courage was merely a shell to hide the lack. She had not chosen her life, but she was foggy on whether or not it was right to deny others the right to join her in her suffering. It wasn’t. A door led to the inner room; and it was evident from the peals of merriment, and other noises, that, ever and anon, resounded from within, that this chamber was occupied by the Marquis and his friends. “You must fetch a doctor,” she said. She crept out of the shadows. But I dare not accept it.
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