“Of course,” said Miss Miniver—she went on in a regularly undulating voice —“we DO please men. “If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand. . She packed her backpack with a change of clothes, some rags, and her old length of piano wire. A tall, clean-shaven man came out and walked rapidly through the room, exchanging greetings right and left, but evidently anxious to avoid being detained. Flowers, theatre boxes, carriages, the “open sesame” to the whole world of pleasure. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was more, full of understanding.
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