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. From the threshold she looked her accuser steadily and coldly in the face. She dropped the manuscripts and swiftly brought the coat to him, noting that a button hung loose. Martin managed to catch her after class the next day. She could hear the raucous laughter and bad music below. ‘You damned little fool! How dared you steal my sword?’ Her eyes flew open. If he succeeds there, I do not know how I can prove myself.
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