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“I can’t imagine it,” said Miss Miniver. Ann Veronica found herself in a little stirring crowd of excited women, whispering and tittering and speaking in undertones. She was good to me for the two years I stayed with her, she had a nice apartment in Galveston. “I wonder if they will seem altered,” she remarked for the third time. The softly glittering summer stars! She saw them shining over mountains of snow, over valleys of haze and warm darkness. She was guided into the dock and prompted by a helpful police inspector. Their small talk continued. He understood now that it was a part of her inheritance. The rain smelled of the Tyrrhenian Sea, which lay only a few paces beyond the manor's white sea-soaked walls. In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk.
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