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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. ‘Why did you bring him? I hate him. "For the caption!" replied Jackson, coolly drawing a brace of pistols from his pockets. " "Never!" replied the woollen-draper; "and if that treacherous rascal, by your side, doesn't make himself scarce quickly, I'll send a bullet through his brain. “Dear me,” she said, “I fancy you exaggerate my fame. Perhaps I am still mad. You desire to know who he was, Sir Rowland. I can’t.
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