. " "Pity!" shrieked the widow. There’s that old gentleman at the end of the table—Bullding his name is. Away in London even now Capes was packing and preparing; Capes, the magic man whose touch turned one to trembling fire. Once a week, every Saturday, they had a little gathering from nine till the small hours, just talk and perhaps reading aloud and fruitarian refreshments—chestnut sandwiches buttered with nut tose, and so forth—and lemonade and unfermented wine; and to one of these symposia Miss Miniver after a good deal of preliminary solicitude, conducted Ann Veronica. She had unaccountable gleams of sympathy with and liking for him. The house was eerily silent, which alerted her to the idea that someone might be listening.
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