The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. She had come to despise those who were fertile out of pure jealousy, but could not admit it to herself. The very facts that Miss Miniver never stated an argument clearly, that she was never embarrassed by a sense of self-contradiction, and had little more respect for consistency of statement than a washerwoman has for wisps of vapor, which made Ann Veronica critical and hostile at their first encounter in Morningside Park, became at last with constant association the secret of Miss Miniver’s growing influence. Her heartbeat raced, her limbs turned to water, and it was only by a miracle and the strength of the arms that held her that she remained standing on her feet. "Do you know this picture?" he added, with another significant look, and pointing to the miniature. "Ah! what is that?" he cried, pointing to a dark object floating near them amid the boiling waves, and which presented a frightful resemblance to a human face. He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing. This lover of yours—” “He doesn’t know!” cried Ann Veronica. "If you mean to accompany us, you may need it. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought.
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