“I can’t imagine it,” said Miss Miniver. " "Willingly. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. “I am sorry,” she said, “if you find the likeness unsatisfactory. Murder, I say, has been done! Another murder will be committed if you don't prevent it. She had to make sure, for the peace of her mind, that this was really the man. Did you grow up at the Valade estates? You were born a Valade, I take it, even though your father is English. There was something indeed holding the whole species back from the imaginable largeness of life. She felt anger at Sebastian, anger at the thrill that she felt in her loins upon seeing him, anger at herself for never having the courage to end her own life. It is most uncomfortable for every one concerned. “You see, it comes after all,” she continued, “from certain original convictions which have become my religion.
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