“Pray accept my apologies. Proof? There is someone who might be willing to help. 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. " "Not while Thames Darrell and Sir Rowland live. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. Ann Veronica sat back with a sigh of relief. ” She spat in his face.
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