’ ‘That depends, that does,’ said Trodger guardedly. Perhaps it was loneliness. “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. ‘Comment? What do you say?’ Gerald looked down into her face, and found himself touched by the uncertainty he saw there. Gianfrancesco never suspected that I had my own reasons for wanting you for my wife. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change. ” “But you thought you could forget him.
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