“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. She followed him about persistently, and succeeded, after a brisk, unchivalrous struggle (in which he pinched and asked her to “cheese it”), in kissing him among the raspberries behind the greenhouse. Her lips were dry and cracked. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad. Pause. ’ ‘Well, I am glad he did not,’ intervened Lucilla, forestalling another withering comment from the captain. He kissed her once on the lips with a passion of which, during all their days of married life, he had given no sign. He remembered also, all at once, the very first words he had heard her speak: “I was not born to this. But she had not reckoned with the etiquette of Canongate. They stood back together and stared at it.
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