CHAPTER III. This was what he missed. 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. But her temper almost flared again when the sergeant spoke. ‘Now then,’ said the captain sternly, ‘I’m not going to ask you what you’re doing here.
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