His eyes closed. Dieu du ciel, what was it? She turned slowly, listening for the direction of the sound. 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. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. " "My dear," observed Wood, "you should be more charitable—" "Charitable!" repeated his wife, "that's your constant cry. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. She wants to be free—she wants to be legally and economically free, so as not to be subject to the wrong man; but only God, who made the world, can alter things to prevent her being slave to the right one.
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