“My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. On the walls were noticeboards bearing clusters of newspaper slips, three or four big posters of monster meetings, one of which Ann Veronica had attended with Miss Miniver, and a series of announcements in purple copying-ink, and in one corner was a pile of banners. To his relief, she nodded. They were in different key, they had a different timbre. He smothered a laugh. After fifteen years, to find that peculiarly Occidental attribute—college loyalty—still alive in his heart! A Western idea that had survived; an idea that was merely the flower of youthful enthusiasm! With his hands still in his sleeves, his chin down in speculation over this phenomenon, he continued his patrol. I’m so glad you’re not angry. “Let your friends act for you. "But be prudent, my angel.
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