The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. She was greatly exercised by the problem of confiding in the Widgetts; they were dears, and she talked away two evenings with Constance without broaching the topic; she made some vague intimations in letters to Miss Miniver that Miss Miniver failed to mark. Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done. ” “No. Every day in the year you will witness such scenes. ” “Sir John is an ass!” he declared. ” “Thousands of women have married merely for freedom,” said Miss Miniver. Ennison,” she said.
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