The face that looked down upon Ann Veronica was full of amiable intention. Women are not in the world in the same sense that men are—fighting individuals in a scramble. He even hugged her a few times, something he had never done. 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.
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