207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. She was greatly exercised by the problem of confiding in the Widgetts; they were dears, and she talked away two evenings with Constance without broaching the topic; she made some vague intimations in letters to Miss Miniver that Miss Miniver failed to mark. The acid of this incertitude had disintegrated his nerve; and in Canton had come the smash. ‘You do not understand, Gérard. "You've got to kill me to get out of here alive. Of course. That’s why he was so annoyed, you know. She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. ’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. I will not trust you. ” It took some days for this phase to pass, and it left some scars and something like a decision.
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