You don’t deserve it, but he does. To perdition with them all. He yielded his place and struck instead with his tongue. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. He reached out a hand gropingly, sagged, and toppled out of the chair to the floor, where he lay very still. ‘And I am delighted to see that you are ready to admit that the Charvills—or rather the Valades—are indeed your affair. But I believe that Mr. Oh, and weeks and months of thought and feeling there are bottled up too.
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