It's a mighty quare 'un, though. “I’ll come to the station,” said Ann Veronica. “Veronique!” she cried with a rising intonation, though never before had she called Ann Veronica anything but Miss Stanley, and seized her and squeezed her and kissed her with profound emotion. He knew my name, and also that I had been living in Paris, and a man doesn’t risk claiming a girl for his wife, as a rule, for nothing. Though a thief, Jack Sheppard is a man of his word. I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. Managers and accountants are always shifting about, so he tells me. “Get me some brandy and my bag. ‘You must have been an exceedingly good pupil.
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