But the world didn’t do that. 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. But her great-aunt was nodding, as if this was what she had expected. The blood will rest on your head. "The door's open, and the room empty. "A bad girl?" She put the question as she would have put any question—leveleyed and level-toned. But her request was unheeded. " "Not now, my love—not now," entreated Wood.
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