"I didn't think you'd been so easily fooled, Joan. A little table covered with a damask cloth was dragged out. My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter. “What else can happen?” asked Miss Miniver, with a little weak gesture at the glow. Your speaking of the trial brings the whole scene to my mind. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. I ate only enough to keep body and soul together.
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