‘Ah, now I may see what damage Gérard has done to me,’ she muttered, crossing to the table and putting her hand to the sore place at her neck. Everybody breathed a collective sigh of relief in the neighborhood, no one wanted to see how those kids would grow up. Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully. “You certainly got him in the bag. Instead had come this storm, this shouting, this weeping, this confusion of threats and irrelevant appeals. It became a sort of duel at last between them, and all the others sat and listened—every one, that is, except the Alderman, who had got the blond young man into a corner by the green-stained dresser with the aluminum things, and was sitting with his back to every one else, holding one hand over his mouth for greater privacy, and telling him, with an accent of confidential admission, in whispers of the chronic struggle between the natural modesty and general inoffensiveness of the Borough Council and the social evil in Marylebone. ‘Many things he taught me. With this air in our blood, this sunlight soaking us. As for loving you, I do. My only love is for my poor lost son.
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