” “But waive that point. 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. . Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. ‘Jacques, are you dead? Jacques, do you hear me?’ Melusine put her cheek to his lips, and felt the faint warmth of his breath. The idea of anything criminal never entered her thoughts. He too was flushed and ruffled; one side of his collar had slipped from its stud and he held a hand to the corner of his jaw. There was nothing of the phenomenon in this.
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