Then, naturally, I went on talking. This helped to restore Ann Veronica’s self-command. 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. Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been. Mr. Manning, with a baffling smile. "Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind. He swung it open and then used his body to pin her against her seat.
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