” “Of course you don’t,” said Miss Miniver, gesticulating triumphantly with her thin hand and thinner wrist, and patting Ann Veronica’s knee. . 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. And your great-niece. Blueskin and the Minters were dragging Wood to the pump. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. I am used, you understand, to guard my secret.
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