“We may just as well have our talk afterwards,” she said, “and I need not keep poor Mr. There was a wall; she was always encountering it; the one time she was able to break through this wall was when the part in his hair was crooked. Winifred, you are deceived in me. She did not understand the note of hostility to men that ran through it all, the bitter vindictiveness that lit Miss Miniver’s cheeks and eyes, the sense of some at last insupportable wrong slowly accumulated.
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