216 “Please, get dressed. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. Hang it, there must be something about her that will give it away. Here would be a woman perfectly unrecognizable, strong, ruthless but just. 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. Manning in fancy costume, as though he was a doll. He listened to the thunder of the fall now mingling with the roar of the blast; and, driven almost frantic by what he heard and saw, he pushed with all his force against the stone. "Back!" he cried fiercely. "I'm surprised you've not asked that question before, Sir Rowland. ‘And I do understand. ‘Then it is that you will have pity? Here we have come, we poor, for aid. But it never said: "Tell someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral pervert, then? Was it what he had lost—the familiar world—rather than what he had done? He stared dully at the footrail. But to England we will go. The knight, who could ill brook this familiarity, instantly arose.
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