"Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. \"Shouldn't you be in bed? You go into work at 5:30, I thought. 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. “We were afraid that you had deserted us for good, Mr. ’ ‘I think you—’ He broke off abruptly, astonished at what he had been about to say.
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