’ Hilary Roding groaned, but obediently followed Gerald as he began to make his way through the trees towards the back to a vantage point from where they might examine the rear of Remenham House. Some of them are now buried at the bottom of the Thames. “Why shouldn’t one face the facts of one’s self?” She stood up. John eased off. The soldiers! They must not find her here. 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. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed.
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