“Is that you, Nigel?” she asked. Well, after a time there came a fever in my blood. “It’s—it’s a difficult question. 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. ’ Then memory hit and he stared at his friend. Papa doesn't even care, but he just goes along with whatever my Mom says. He did not spend more time with her.
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