And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. In another minute, the tramp of horses' feet told that the perpetrators of the outrage had effected their escape. Each was draped in transparent silk, dancing, beckoning to me, teasing me. "Proclaim a public fight. “Why? Do you think I’m a stoner?” He asked. You know not in what dark places my life has been cast; with what crimes it has been stained. ” “Nor I,” said Ann Veronica.
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