To disillusion her, forthwith. Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully. I had to sell out, you see, when my father died, for the estate is in my hands. Away off in the fields the bluesmocked peasants bent still at their toil. You love money. The will to live had returned. Now it is—’ ‘What are you doing still here, missie, that’s what I’d like to know?’ demanded the man Trodger, sticking to his guns. "Hush!" she said. He had mentioned teaching her how to read Latin one day when she had wandered into the library. She stared at him. Reluctantly she found him beguiling after he had eaten.
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