His hand traveled below her loose neckline, and he cupped her round breast in his hand. 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. It must be my fault that you have not learnt that your husband is the man to come to—at such a time as this. “How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way. I think not. " "A bold resolution," said the woollen-draper.
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