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You will be—my wife. I didn't mean it. Sir John hesitated, and then continued. “Oh, Veronica!” she said, “to leave your home!” She had been weeping. As soon as he had read it, he let it fall from his grasp. She was drawn first by Miss Miniver, and then by her own natural interest, into a curious stratum of people who are busied with dreams of world progress, of great and fundamental changes, of a New Age that is to replace all the stresses and disorders of contemporary life. He would know her address to-morrow. .
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