"What are you waiting for?" asked Jack, impatiently. Admire her as much as you choose—at a distance. “I should like to understand you,” he said. It was bare of any furnishings. I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. So presently they got into a hansom together, and Ann Veronica sat back feeling very luxurious and pleasant, and looked at the light and stir and misty glitter of the street traffic from under slightly drooping eyelids, while Ramage sat closer to her than he need have done, and glanced ever and again at her face, and made to speak and said nothing. Then began expostulations, preluded by a telegram and headed by her aunt.
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