“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 his interest in Ruth, all his care and solicitude, could now be translated into a single word—love. Her complexion had resisted the snow-glare wonderfully; her skin had only deepened its natural warmth a little under the Alpine sun. If I had been quite quiet and white and dignified, wouldn’t it have been different? Would he have dared?.
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