Very central in Miss Miniver’s universe were the Goopes. Immediately she had spoken of the loose button he knew that henceforth he must show no concern over the disposition of that coat. From other obscure hints dropped by the speakers, Mrs. Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. We have that gift.
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