"Why do you ask?" rejoined the other haughtily. 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. The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast. “I am sure,” she said, “that you mean to stay until you are turned out.
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