The Reverend Henry Dolby performed the cermony, and his wife and daughter were witnesses. “Now look here, Veronica, let us be plain with each other. Wood's charms equalled your description. She turned to Lucilla, a plea in her face. 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. I am not come here to play the part of your father-confessor. Tell me that you are not sorry to see me again. It was open. Wood lifted up his hands in mute despair.
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