“Don’t we all rather humbug about the coarseness? All we women, I mean,” said she. . 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. I didn’t think—I don’t know what I thought.
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