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. And ever after it struck him that her backward smile as she disappeared was charged with some special significance. The old lady’s face was stiff with anger. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word. ’ Jack gasped. “Where am I?” he muttered. She did not wait, but grabbed up the lantern and slid into the passage, calling to them to hurry. At the sight of her he became rigid and a singularly bright shade of pink. I may prevail upon them to take you in until you are full-fledged, providing you do not find this aunt.
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