The nuns had no regard for the sensibilities of a “lady” and expected Melusine— for it was her allotted task—to clean and tend the soldier’s wounds even when they festered. 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. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. The important secret remained locked in my breast, but I resolved to be avenged. ’ ‘Because I was a servant in the vicomte’s house? Things have changed. Teenage boys never change, she thought to herself. " "Horrible!" cried Mrs. ‘Do not speak any more for you give yourself pain,’ said Melusine fearfully. He took about five minutes.
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