Still, her face never betrayed this distraction. We were going at a mad pace. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. And at last Ann Veronica and Miss Miniver came down the dark staircase and out into the foggy spaces of the London squares, and crossed Russell Square, Woburn Square, Gordon Square, making an oblique route to Ann Veronica’s lodging. He had hurt her. “Does a bear shit in the woods?” He said.
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