But his grief was of short duration. “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. But at the same time, I must say plainly that I think your presence here just now would be a great misfortune. He sent a speculative glance at the immobile yellow face. The room was intimate and wonderful to her with its shadows now cast over the girlish menagerie of stuffed animals.
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