” “Not in the least,” she assured him. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. “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. Sheppard.
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