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. And he would express various artistic sensibilities and aesthetic appreciations in carefully punctuated sentences and a large, clear voice. He lives in constant dread of a reappearance of ‘La Belle Alcide,’ and hearing it said that she is his wife’s sister. I do swear. But a far greater affliction was in store for her. White became conscious of a distinct sense of uneasiness, and showed it in her face. Here he halted; and, looking upwards, read, at the foot of an immense sign-board, displaying a gaudily-painted angel with expanded pinions and an olive-branch, not the name he expected to find, but that of WILLIAM KNEEBONE, WOOLLENDRAPER. “We are not the sort that goes under,” said Ann Veronica, holding her hands so that the red reflections vanished from her eyes.
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