” She stopped short, full of things un-said. ‘It is London’s loss, ma’am. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. Life seemed a very brave and glorious enterprise to Ann Veronica that day. She felt he would tell people the way, control traffic, and refuse admission to public buildings with invincible correctness and the very finest explicit feelings possible. He could hardly open the envelope, he trembled so.
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