There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. “Well,” said Capes, at length, “we’ve to go down, Ann Veronica. I’ve got imagination. ” “Poor old ring!” said Ann Veronica. ” Anna’s demeanour was still imperturbable, her marble pallor untinged by the slightest flush of colour. She remained for a few moments standing as though listening to his retreating footsteps.
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