” He threw open the door of the sitting-room and switched on the electric light. The young lady—if she had come in here at all—had vanished. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. I have a big breakfast. His tie had demanded a struggle; he ought to have taken a clean one after his first failure. “Idiotic, isn’t it?” “Absolutely,” she agreed coldly. Taber and no one comment upon it. As she talked, the drift and significance of what she was saying shaped itself slowly to Ann Veronica’s apprehension. ’ She turned and swept away from him, pacing the length of the room to the window Gerald had unshuttered. They sat in the front row.
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