She wanted to kiss his feet. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. At the cost of quite a number of torn drafts she succeeded in evolving this: “DEAR MR. Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow. “You are a thousand times more beautiful,” he said, “than anything else could be. There's a hundred pounds too much. A deadly sickness came over her, the room seemed spinning round. ’ ‘Which is exactly what started us off,’ Gerald said to his friend with a grin, as he gave up his injured hand to the other’s ministrations.
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