“Well, rather,” said Ann Veronica. The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. 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. Cathy got a second job as a receptionist. When she got back to her questions again in the monotonous high-road that led up the hill, she found the image of Mr.
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