The clouds were nearly black with rain, threatening to spill sleet in daggers and torrents. “It is too late for visitors,” she remarked. And Miss Miniver fell discussing whether Goopes or Bernard Shaw or Tolstoy or Doctor Tumpany or Wilkins the author had the more powerful and perfect mind in existence at the present time. Two women entered and sat down at the adjoining table. “You know what? You’re right. ” She seated herself in a loose and easy attitude and surveyed the backs of the Avenue houses; then her eyes wandered to where the new red-and-white villas peeped among the trees.
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