“Will you tell me what all this is about?” said Capes. Ann Veronica was apologetic to the bottom of her soul. Both arm-chairs had been moved a little so as to face each other on either side of the fender, and in the circular glow of the green-shaded lamp there lay, conspicuously waiting, a thick bundle of blue and white papers tied with pink tape. 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. "Is it you?" "It is," replied Sheppard, as he untied the cords. "Come here," said the petticoated tyrant. And Pottiswick, of course. Above her head was an aura of white fire.
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