He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. “I was watching you at Morningside Park, dear,” said Miss Miniver. . ‘I know,’ said Prudence Sindlesham, sympathy in her tone. ’ ‘You should be happy that you are not dead,’ she retorted, but with a diminution of the venom and fright in her voice.
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