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. ’ That wonderful poster—is of you. I have never loved you. ‘That is my mother. Twelve years, then, have elapsed since the date of the occurrences detailed in the preceding division of this history.
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