It rained heavily all day, so he did not stir forth. The man pulled up his horse grumbling, and turned round. Somehow to-night—I don’t know. She held out her hand frankly. The very facts that Miss Miniver never stated an argument clearly, that she was never embarrassed by a sense of self-contradiction, and had little more respect for consistency of statement than a washerwoman has for wisps of vapor, which made Ann Veronica critical and hostile at their first encounter in Morningside Park, became at last with constant association the secret of Miss Miniver’s growing influence. During the wet monsoon the west beach was always littered. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously.
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