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. 275 “Yes!” She answered, feeling joy and fear well in her chest. ” “I’ll pay you if I have to work at shirt-making at threepence an hour. ’ He stopped suddenly, dismay creeping into his face. She ran down alleyways and between buildings, faster than an Olympian, until she could hear his voice no more. It resembled Mardi Gras, and she thought disdainfully of New Orleans. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. She shuddered; the room was unfamiliar and unwelcoming.
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