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Part 3 She dismissed the first hotels she passed, she scarcely knew why, mainly perhaps from the mere dread of entering them, and crossed Waterloo Bridge at a leisurely pace. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. But don't let my name frighten you. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. Already she knew that she was overstaying her welcome. ” Well, it was beyond dispute that these words did convey a certain quality of the Movements in general amid which Miss Miniver disported herself. And then her pace slackened. “Slavery! Downtroddenness! When I think of it I feel all over boot marks— men’s boots. ’ She shook her head.
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