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. “I had those beautiful roses from you on my first night, and a tiny little note but no address. ’ ‘Madame la Comtesse,’ put in Melusine, for she had learned much by pumping le pére Saint-Simon, who was acquainted with all the French exiles. You see, I have had to look after myself so long that I have developed a terrible bump of independence. ‘Gérard, do not go,’ she cried, breathless.
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