She had never before heard the noise of firecrackers, and in the beginning the sputtering racket caused her to wince. But she no longer felt Jacomo’s age, even if she looked it. “You’re Glorious!” said Miss Miniver in tones of rapture, holding a hand in each of hers and peering up into Ann Veronica’s face. Here I am as an alternative either to nasty work—or going home.
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