“Of course,” said Miss Miniver—she went on in a regularly undulating voice —“we DO please men. ” She threw away the end of her cigarette. Not so bad. "Where is he?" he cried. Her arms and feet were uncovered, and of almost skeleton thinness. I found it on the beach, just sitting there nestled inside a piece of driftwood. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. Nevertheless, she was still fighting. It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park. She was very satisfied about this. Besides, I don't think he's going to ask, if that is what you are getting at.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTMzLjEyMS4yNTQgLSAwNi0wNy0yMDI0IDAwOjEyOjA2IC0gMTM0NDUwMjI3NA==
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