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. The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet. Goodbye. Of course, girls repeat phrases and opinions of which they cannot possibly understand the meaning. But that was all over. She would not be driven in by this persistent, sneaking aggression.
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