He kept his keen eyes steadily fixed on Thames, as if awaiting to be addressed. “I think,” she said, “that I rather like what you have said. And now you must go back, take up your work and think all this over. “Poor little Miniver! What can she be but what she is?. She shuddered; the room was unfamiliar and unwelcoming. Annabel seated herself in an easy chair and determined to wait for her sister’s return. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. On the way home he was still thoughtful.
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