And then amusement crept into Alderley’s chest and he let his pistol hand fall. Everything, Miss Miniver said, was “working up,” everything was “coming on”—the Higher Thought, the Simple Life, Socialism, Humanitarianism, it was all the same really. And this was an adventure of which he had dreamed from boyhood: aboard a windjammer on the South Seas. " "But I'm a poor man. ’ ‘You need not be a nun,’ he said, leaning towards her. He did not speak for a moment.
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