“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. She had turned round sideways, so as to look down into the fire. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. The young man opposite was straining his ears to listen to their conversation. The baby boy was delivered in a sea of black blood, born dead and blue, and strangled by plague.
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