. Once more breaking through the hedge he took to the fields. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. Her courage and her presence of mind had alike deserted her. She glanced at the Frenchman, and found him struggling with the portrait that was embedded around his scalp. He comforted himself, however, with the certainty which he felt of capturing his prey on the Sunday.
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