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New Left Review I/8, March-April 1961

Jeremy Brooks

The Protest

i wish you could have met my mother,” said Captain Herbert. “A wonderful woman, truly wonderful. I don’t suppose the world will see her like again. Does that sound excessive? I’m sorry. Veronica reminds me of her not a little at times, do you know? A dear girl. You are a very fortunate young man. My uncle, the Brigadier, who as you know was Veronica’s god-father, used to remark on the resemblance when she was quite a small girl . . . although of course there is no relationship whatsoever . . . unless perhaps through my Marloe cousins? . . . in any case very distant. I don’t think you knew my uncle?

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