“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. "I would not venture to renew my suit while Thames lived, because I well knew your affections were fixed upon him. ‘Don’t rightly know how you make that out, you being a French spy and a prisoner and all. " "Then he has been unfortunate?" "That's patent enough. “I didn’t know you were half-Gypsy either. ‘Did I say so? When last heard from you were claiming some good English name. It is not so. She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. Her eye met Miss Stanley’s understandingly, and she was if anything a trifle more affectionate in her greeting to Ann Veronica.
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