He heard the panting of the donkey-engine, then the slithering of the anchor chains. The man or woman who did something for nothing always excited his suspicions; they were playing some kind of a game. 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. To shore up a business that never had any foundation, he wanted me to lend him a hundred thousand; and for his sake as well as for mine I had to refuse. He was wrapped in a laced roquelaure, which he threw off on his entrance into the room.
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