If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. ‘May I, indeed? I’ll take you up on that. “You poor thing. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. What can a girl do? Somewhere at this point Ann Veronica’s speculations were interrupted and turned aside by the approach of a horse and rider. And Miss Miniver began to sway her. Cool and sunny, it seemed that God himself smiled upon that day, the sunbeams streaming through the magnificent arches dustily as the priest murmured in soporific Latin. Anna picked up an ancient magazine, and began to turn over the pages in a leisurely way. His complexion was pale; and there was something sinister in the expression of his large black eyes. A woman isn’t much freer—in reality.
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