But you,” he continued, moving imperceptibility a little nearer to her, “you are mine. Ann Veronica, with a sigh at the cost of hospitality, made a hasty negotiation for an extra tea and for a fire in the groundfloor apartment, and preened herself carefully for the interview. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. What a mercy that the blow aimed at her by the ruffian, Wild, though it brought her to the brink of the grave, should have restored her to reason! Ah! she stirs. Why not? Were not his own sentiments inclined in favour of the patient? But fifty gold was fifty gold. Gianfrancesco stumbled belatedly onto the beach, his feet padding wet sand. Don’t say anything, she thought to herself, say nothing more, Martin.
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