My wife doesn’t understand, doesn’t understand now. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. She guarded her mother, or at least she had liked to think so. His smile faded. " "Everything. “I want you so much, Lucy. “You have killed me. " "No! I have run away from my father. 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. You know I am in love with you. He chuckled. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement.
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