One glance through the window at that picturesque head had been sufficient. “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. But the sheer immensity of the tract! James Boyle was certainly up against it, hard. "Come here," said the petticoated tyrant. Ennison started and looked anxiously at Anna.
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