‘But—’ ‘Nothing at all for you to worry your head over,’ said the captain, moving to try and usher her forth. He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. She charged boldly into the space of Miss Miniver’s rhetorical pause. And, as he was about to put himself into a posture of defence, his mother clasped him in her arms. You needn’t be in any doubt about it. Kneebone, I came hither as your guest.
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