Her dainty shoes were soiled with dust and there was a great tear in her skirt. " "For me!" vociferated Mrs. “We do not want the men,” said Miss Miniver; “we do not want them, with their sneers and loud laughter. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless.
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