At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. I want to boast myself. “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. I don’t want to bother you, of course. And after that Alice became remoter than ever, and, after a time, ill. I waited for them to get right out of the grounds. The young fellow was almost as odd in his way as the girl was in hers. " "What should I retract, villain?" cried the woollen-draper, who at the sound of Jack's voice had regained his confidence. The odds were astounding and yet he had it bad. . elizabethbailey.
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