Red apples and snow! How often had these two things entered his thoughts since his wanderings began? Red apples and snow!—and never again to behold them! "I am going out for a little while," she said. They don’t catch on to discursive interests, you see, because they are more serious, they are concentrated on the central reality of life, and a little impatient of its—its outer aspects. The tired woman looked quietly at her. He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough. “Won’t you tell me why you have come to England?” she said. “I can’t imagine it,” said Miss Miniver. “Let me know the truth.
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