Ah! but you can’t imagine what you are to me and what you mean to me! I suppose there is something mystical and wonderful about all women. “No,” said Ann Veronica, “but I want to know. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. His looks were fixed on his old benefactor. ’ She struck her hands together. She turned quickly.
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