She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. “We do not want the men,” said Miss Miniver; “we do not want them, with their sneers and loud laughter. "Where am I to take it to?" asked Sheppard. “I don’t think our engagement can go on,” she plunged, and felt exactly that loss of breath that comes with a dive into icy water. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. John knew everybody, it seemed. A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. Lord, what a state I was in! Night after night I sat there, I watched her come in, I watched her go.
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