She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park. I could never have talked to you like this, forgetting everything that parts us, forgetting even your age, if I did not love you utterly. “I can’t imagine it,” said Miss Miniver.
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