’ Gerald stood back, and watched her cross the room to the closed French doors. He had never wanted daughters. 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. “What else was I to do?” For some seconds she stood watching him and both were thinking very quickly. Her aunt had summoned up an altogether too vivid picture of her father as the masterful man, overbearing, emphatic, sentimental, noisy, aimless. "Hurrah! come along, Thames; we're free. ” Miss Stanley rose and regarded Ann Veronica fixedly. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. " "He's coming!" cried Jack, stamping his foot, with vexation. They had not to tarry long.
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