“Why should one pretend?” she whispered. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. See paragraph 1. He did not like it. 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. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. pglaf. His most eager inquiries and most lavish bribes could gain no further information than that she had left for England, and that her address was—London.
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