But there was nothing in her bearing that a passer-by would have noted, to tell of the excitement that possessed her. “And yet you still live, Butterfly. Wood—" "That's false!" cried a voice behind him. Finally she decided that even for an hotel she must look round, and that meanwhile she would “book” her luggage at Waterloo. The very facts that Miss Miniver never stated an argument clearly, that she was never embarrassed by a sense of self-contradiction, and had little more respect for consistency of statement than a washerwoman has for wisps of vapor, which made Ann Veronica critical and hostile at their first encounter in Morningside Park, became at last with constant association the secret of Miss Miniver’s growing influence. “I expected you this morning,” he said.
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