‘I thought it must be you,’ cried the woman. He thought her only an orphan in search of her English relatives. ’ The girl glanced up the road and turned back, annoyance in her face. “I can’t imagine it,” said Miss Miniver. " "Would you be angry if I offered it to you?" "Very. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of determined women at war with the universe. “That,” she answered, “is far easier to believe.
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