"She tells me there was a Kanaka cook; been in the family as long as she can remember. Pistols and pictures? Now it fair goes agin’ me nature to act rough with a lady, but you’ll come along of me at once. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. ’ His features relaxed again and he grinned. ‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. The very facts that Miss Miniver never stated an argument clearly, that she was never embarrassed by a sense of self-contradiction, and had little more respect for consistency of statement than a washerwoman has for wisps of vapor, which made Ann Veronica critical and hostile at their first encounter in Morningside Park, became at last with constant association the secret of Miss Miniver’s growing influence.
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