Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. ‘But you know. Or at least he did the day before yesterday. They will say that it was murder. She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly. Anna never knew whither it had led her— sometimes she had fears. ‘Quick, Gérard. “We will take it then,” he said, “that you have refused or ignored one request I have made you this morning. And this great mellow place, this London, now was hers, to struggle with, to go where she pleased in, to overcome and live in. “We do not want the men,” said Miss Miniver; “we do not want them, with their sneers and loud laughter. This I know, for the Valades have taught me so, and the nuns also.
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