Jack had thus been six hours in accomplishing his arduous task. Without whisky," went on McClintock, "your irritability is beyond tolerance. “Just do it. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. It was her figure, her style of dress, her manner of arranging the hair. Her face scarcely reflected his enthusiasm. . Yet she held her tongue.
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