Mrs. She thought of her aunt and that purse that was dropped on the table, and of many troublesome and ill-requited kindnesses; she thought of the help of the Widgetts, of Teddy’s admiration; she thought, with a new-born charity, of her father, of Manning’s conscientious unselfishness, of Miss Miniver’s devotion. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. Father-worshipping sons are abnormal— and they’re no good. ‘If you had met her, you’d understand.
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