” There was a moment’s silence. "How goes it?" he began, heartily. He loved Ann Veronica, he said; he was so mad to have her that he defeated himself, and did crude and alarming and senseless things. Anna tore it open and passed it to Courtlaw. They came from every part, from the pit, the circle and the gallery, even from the stalls. She would write to Gerald. He laughed once or twice at himself as he paced backwards and forwards. But tell me one thing I don’t understand—tell me one thing: How can you help it by coming down into the battle and the mire? That’s the thing that concerns me.
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