"The poor young man!" she said. . "I hope not. "Look here," cried Jonathan, stooping down and taking hold of a ring in the floor, with which by a great effort he raised up a flag. He was indeed still in the throes of his bewilderment. “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. It plucked shingles from the school building, threatening to shake them all loose one by one like rotting teeth.
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