“We do not want the men,” said Miss Miniver; “we do not want them, with their sneers and loud laughter. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. Courtlaw for his true verdict, and he gave it me. Anna said nothing. Sometimes I think she’s tired of us. The little spot of rouge was vivid enough now by reason of this new pallor, which seemed to draw the colour even from her lips. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens.
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