She was acquiring truths, but in a series of shocks rather than by the process of analysis. ‘Woof!’ uttered Trodger, gazing at the lady in some awe. She blushed prettily, and in a moment regained command of her tongue. 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. She is setting out for Hartford, Connecticut. You spoke just now of a youth whom Mr. Laughed at me, then. His literary instincts began to stir.
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