“I think,” she said, “that I rather like what you have said. ” “Lady Ferringhall—alone?” Ennison exclaimed. ’ ‘Eh bien. 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. Manning’s letter. Mac's. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate.
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