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. "I have no sympathy," replied Prudence, "with a man who deliberately fuddles himself with strong drink. ‘You cannot mean General Charvill?’ ‘That old martinet?’ exclaimed Roding. McClintock liked it. Lucy felt herself go very red in the cheeks and lowered her hand rather slowly.
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