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. “You are neither of you in the least like the ordinary boarding-house young man. Next instant he had her immobilised, her hands behind her back, her chest crushed to his, the white veil slipping once again. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. Go away now, there’s a good lad. She went to market every day to fetch the daily bread and more herbs for more medicines and potions, plus treats for the apprentices made of honey and almond paste.
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