I saw the metal box a hundred times, but I never thought of opening it until the day I fled. It frightened her to behold her heart and mind thus laid bare; but the chapter following would reassure her. Let me go my own way towards them. But even with that furniture it remained extremely vague, the possible good and the possible evil as well! The possible evil! “I’ll go,” said Ann Veronica for the hundredth time. But her great-aunt was nodding, as if this was what she had expected. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. 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. ‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment.
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