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. Yet you can look Cheveney in the face and declare that you do not know him. ” “You! Why, you have been an angel to her,” he exclaimed impatiently. But a little daughter is one thing and a daughter quite another.
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