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. She read beautifully because the fixed form of the poem signified nothing. ” She replied. Love—admiration for your matchless beauty alone sways me. ” He referred to a sheet of paper by his side. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. Perhaps I ate something spoiled for breakfast. So far she had the utmost difficulty in getting on to that vitally important matter. If they had any idea the concerts he had seen, they would have known the quality of her playing. They chatted pleasantly as he drove around the neighborhood for a half an hour, then stopped by the Diedermayer house.
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