She followed the landlady half way up-stairs, and called up to Ann Veronica, “May I come up? It’s me! You know—Nettie Miniver!” She appeared before Ann Veronica could clearly recall who Nettie Miniver might be. Don’t, don’t say anything now, not anything. And he began also at times to wake at night and think about her. She rose to the fire to stoke it. The Times slipped from his fingers. “You have not seen your sister lately,” he remarked.
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