His back was no sooner turned, than she slipped this casket into the box. Spurling? Why, if Captain Sheppard should get off, it 'ud be fifty guineas out of my way. “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.
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