Or perhaps my father once. ” “What did your aunt say?” “She didn’t even kiss me. Gerald stayed him. Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. CHAPTER VIII. Every afternoon, from now on, I will teach you a little about life—I mean the worldly points of view you're likely to meet.
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