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. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. "So endeth the first lesson," he said. She did not want to seem to shrink from conversation, but all sorts of odd questions were running through her mind. A SCENE FROM THE PHOTOPLAY. We are doing a unit on World War II in American History right now, so maybe I am getting a little wrapped up in the unit or something, I dunno.
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