I know in Paris you pinched and scraped that your sister might have the dresses and entertainments she desired. 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. She leaned back as he climbed on top of her and kissed her mouth again. I was curious about that. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. O'Higgins eyed it thoughtfully.
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