“She must,” said Mr. “It seems so unfair,” she said, “to take all you offer me and give so little in return. “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. He answered with the greatest assurance, that he knew nothing whatever of the matter—had seen no pocket-book, and no associate to give up. ’ ‘Must we talk of it? I’m trying to forget it.
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