“The women are taking it up,” said Miss Miniver; “the women and the common people, all pressing forward, all roused. “It was unpleasant while it lasted, but it is over —and my toasted scones are delicious. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. Gosse were you born, and Gosse will you remain to your death. I have forgot all about the sword until the capitaine has come. We’ve deserted the posts in which we found ourselves, cut our duties, exposed ourselves to risks that may destroy any sort of social usefulness in us.
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