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 I waited in vain. It had neither succumbed to her nor wrathfully overwhelmed her. They got in my mouth. CHAPTER XXIII. ‘No need to shake in your boots,’ Gerald said soothingly. He felt no pain from this cowardly kick. "It can't be Captain Sheppard!" "It is," replied Jack; "and you had better have met the devil on your road than me. I’ll have to think of something else.
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