She could have dined alone in her room; but courage had demanded that she face the ordeal and have done with it. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. I wish I could get you to imitate Thames Darrell. Then she went back and mixed up the sheets in a search for particular passages. She ought to have leapt back on guard.
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