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“I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters. She had no place she loved. ” “And leave you here alone?” he asked, in a hoarse whisper. The very facts that Miss Miniver never stated an argument clearly, that she was never embarrassed by a sense of self-contradiction, and had little more respect for consistency of statement than a washerwoman has for wisps of vapor, which made Ann Veronica critical and hostile at their first encounter in Morningside Park, became at last with constant association the secret of Miss Miniver’s growing influence. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks.
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