“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. ” “Then come back. “You go home and think of all this,” he said, “and talk about it to-morrow. God help me. She was consumed by misery and hate. I never even burrowed down into the trunk.
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