"And you have seen … drunken men?" Prudence's tones were full of suppressed horror. The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. Here was a hole as wide as a church-door. Diane did not hear the footsteps on her brick patio or the audible click of the back door lock being compromised. Everything, Miss Miniver said, was “working up,” everything was “coming on”—the Higher Thought, the Simple Life, Socialism, Humanitarianism, it was all the same really. She got up, as she had been told to do, at his appearance, and he amazed her by sitting down, according to custom, on her stool. Then suddenly her spirit rose in revolt. Just one thing more. CHAPTER I.
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