Something seemed to dredge up from the recesses of her memory and she brightened. ’ ‘But I have told you I have not another dagger, even a little one. 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. ” “Not long ago,” she said, “you left me in anger, partly because of this exchange of identities between Annabel and myself. " "Palliate them as you may," replied the widow, gravely, "they were faults; and as such, cannot be repaired by a greater wrong. “Soon enough, John. ” Anna read, and her cheeks grew slowly scarlet.
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