He could not tell whether she was English or American. 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. There was an eerie sense of brooding menace about an uninhabited establishment. A crisis had been reached, and she was almost glad it had been reached. Blood, they say, won't come out. But that is men all over.
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