" "Leave you!" echoed the ruffian, with a contemptuous laugh; "—not just yet. "Where did you pick it up?" "I believe I told you; at Yale. “You can’t imagine,” he said, “what a beastly thing a furtive love affair can be. ‘Now then, my lad, you’re under arrest you are. We leave England to-night. All through the love music of the second act, until the hunting horns of Mark break in upon the dream, Ann Veronica’s consciousness was flooded with the perception of a man close beside her, preparing some new thing to say to her, preparing, perhaps, to touch her, stretching hungry invisible tentacles about her.
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