Sheppard trembled violently; and though she understood his meaning too well, she answered,—"I can't guess. D'ye hear how the wanes creaks on old Winchester House? We shall have a touch on it ourselves presently. The pavement had been hastily picked up, and heaped across the end of the street, upon which planks, barrels, and other barricades, were laid. Love stories! It was of negligible importance that these books were bound in paper; Romance lay unalterably within. 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.
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