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Occasionally he relit his pipe. Here was a hole as wide as a church-door. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. ‘Do you think it is the man in the moon that I mean? What is it that Gérard has told you?’ ‘That you need help. My destiny, I am afraid, is going to lead me into the ruts. “Of course,” said Miss Miniver—she went on in a regularly undulating voice —“we DO please men. “Don’t!” she begged.
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