This is not the conduct of a jeune demoiselle. Her fingers were bursting through her gloves, as if to get at once into touch with Ann Veronica. On the way he confessed. ‘Desist, you little devil,’ he growled in her ear. The letter began: “MY DEAREST GIRL,—I cannot let you do this foolish thing—” She crumpled notes and letter together in her hand, and then with a passionate gesture flung them into the fire.
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