Ann Veronica said she didn’t care. She charged boldly into the space of Miss Miniver’s rhetorical pause. ‘But a spy I am not. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. “It is like old times,” she said, “to hear these home truths. She is in Wild's power. There is a button loose on that coat under your pillow.
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