Miss Miniver looked out on the world through large emotional blue eyes that were further magnified by the glasses she wore, and her nose was pinched and pink, and her mouth was whimsically petulant. ’ ‘You know, Gerald,’ Lucilla put in thoughtfully, forestalling a withering rejoinder from the captain, ‘there may be something in that. Before you have lived—” He became darkly prophetic. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs.
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