‘Hadn’t meant you to know,’ said the nun gruffly. ’ ‘Well, don’t blame me if you get your head blown off. Sir John gave his order, deliberately stumbling now and then over a word, and anglicizing others. She made lumpish and inadequate interruptions rather than replies. "If things had gone smoothly," he thought, "I should have cursed the fellow's stupidity. But,” and he faced them both with a still expressionless glance, “this is not the end!” Anna recovered her spirits with marvellous facility. Gerald’s judgement was borne out a moment later. She thought of her aunt and that purse that was dropped on the table, and of many troublesome and ill-requited kindnesses; she thought of the help of the Widgetts, of Teddy’s admiration; she thought, with a new-born charity, of her father, of Manning’s conscientious unselfishness, of Miss Miniver’s devotion. She thought of an old abandoned barn that she could inhabit further downriver, but shrugged off the idea in disdain. I hated the stuff. How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me? She came upon the Song of Songs—which had been pasted down in the Enschede Bible—the burning litany of love; and from time to time she intoned some verse of tender lyric beauty. They found out Cris had some sort of criminal past, more child abuse stuff of course. “I have waited for this,” he said, and stood quite still, looking at her until the silence became oppressive.
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