"I am. “I can’t imagine it,” said Miss Miniver. Her formerly brown hair was dyed a white shade of blonde. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. In truth, she had been quite glad to lose the argument about remaining while the bullet was dug out of Jack’s side. The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. ” “H’m!” said Ann Veronica, and shook her head. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. Ann Veronica watched her face, vaguely sympathizing with her, vaguely disliking her physical insufficiency and her convulsive movements, and the fine eyebrows were knit with a faint perplexity. "I should be sorry to persuade him to do anything his calmer judgment might disapprove. What was she going to do? One main idea possessed her: she must get away from home, she must assert herself at once or perish. But I'm thinking of asking Josh Durkin.
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