It reminded Ann Veronica of having a tooth stopped. "You base ingrate," she added, in a whisper, as she flounced past Mr. Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as a hand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into the position of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to the divine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be written with her heart's blood. ‘Me, I am Mademoiselle Charvill, the granddaughter of Monsieur Jar-vis Re-men-ham. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips.
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