I have but to give a hint of that boy's existence in the proper quarter, and his life will not be worth a day's purchase. . 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. . If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. It is safe.
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