“You must pack for me. . So, not exactly hopefully but earnestly, she returned to the feet of God. Standing over the pierced Rhea, Lucy bayed, a long cry that was half-scream and half-howl. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. He has told me sufficient of you—" "My dear," interposed Wood, "for goodness' sake—" "I will speak," screamed his wife, totally disregarding the interruption; "I will tell this worthless creature what I know about her,—and what I think of her. 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.
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