The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. “You’re splendid!” said Teddy, with his hair wild in the wind. 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. F. Her back had stiffened, and her hazel eyes looked steadfastly ahead.
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