While waiting for his coming she had stated her present and future relations with him with what had seemed to her the most satisfactory lucidity and completeness. ‘Only you made me lose my temper, and—’ ‘I made you do so? Pah!’ Gerald at last succeeded in ripping the handkerchief from her grasp, and swiftly held it to her neck, oblivious to her now bloodied fingers clawing at his hand. She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly. They were sitting alone, Lucy. 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. Kneebone, Van Galgebrok, and Baptist Kettleby—all of whom greeted him cordially. Lucy had snuck in the back door by the kitchen and Sheila was ready for her, standing between the stove 124 and the refrigerator.
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