. “Please search everywhere,” she said. His tone changed, becoming a little more moderate. “Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. "There's Sharples," cried Quilt. An acute sense of living was in her veins, even the taste of her wine seemed magical. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. "So it is," the doctor agreed. Her linen gown was soft against the heavy skins. 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.
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