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He knocked on the doorframe. " "Or the flat stones in the meadows, teeming with life underneath. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. Come along, master. ” She found it difficult to begin thinking, and indeed she was anything but clear what it was she had to think about. Her loneliness was consuming, Lucia. The little grating in the door, the sense of constant inspection, worried her. 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. “You are the Sir John Ferringhall who has bought the Lyndmore estate, are you not?” she remarked.
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