She had agonized over it for weeks. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. “I can’t imagine it,” said Miss Miniver. She silently willed him to stop his pacing, to calm down. She padded up the stairs to the bedroom, finding that her sheets had been changed with a fresh pillow case to welcome her weary head. ’ Upon which, she darted through the library door, galvanising both the sergeant and his two militiamen into action. “Miss Pellissier,” he said, “don’t!” “Why not?” she asked, smiling.
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