The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. . Wood. He had no use for Ann Veronica; he had never had a use for her since she had been too old to sit upon his knee. It throbs cruelly. Now, abruptly, they were real again, though very distant, and she had come to say farewell to them across one sundering year. As he returned to the table, he put his finger to his nose; and, though he said nothing, he thought he had a much better chance of winning his wager. “Ann Veronica,” he said, “I tell you this is love. ” She replied. I had no curiosity of that kind.
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