“But why is it preposterous?” asked Ann Veronica, and fiddled with a pipe on the mantel. ’ ‘And I love the way you call me imbecile,’ finished Gerald. Mr. Love—admiration for your matchless beauty alone sways me. She knew that to expect more now was like anticipating a gold-mine in the garden. Again returning to the main road, he passed through Clapton; and turning off on the left, arrived at the foot of Stamford Hill.
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