"Ay, what's the matter, boy!" reiterated Jackson sternly. White leaned forward in her chair with an anxious smile designed to throw oil upon the troubled waters. . The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. Perhaps I deceived you about it. " "Why, what'll you do?" demanded the turnkey. Very likely you will disapprove highly of what I have done—I wonder? You may, perhaps, think I have done it just in a fit of childish petulance because my father locked me in when I wanted to go to a ball of which he did not approve. ’ She grasped the girl’s arm. ” Well, it was beyond dispute that these words did convey a certain quality of the Movements in general amid which Miss Miniver disported herself.
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