She pulled herself together and put her eye to the eye-piece. “Your little flag of pride must flutter down with the rest of them, Ann Veronica. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill ironically the story of his coat—to take it off and fling it at the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. ‘And nor do I. On this side of the canal she has no place to go. Before a year has expired, you will share the same fate. And all the talk of the Miniver people and the Widgett people seemed always to be like a ship in adverse weather on the lee shore of love.
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