” They left the restaurant just as the rain slowed to a dull trickle, the fury of the storm exhausted, having left mirror puddles in its wake. “The fool I have been!” he cried; and now speech was coming to him. ‘I find you excessively rude. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. ” “It isn’t nice going to prison. Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully. This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. Probably she mistook you; probably she thought you cared.
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