“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 always wondered why he bought my mother's pearls so readily. I tore the marriage certificate from his pocket and burnt it. "What proof have you of the truth of this story?" inquired Trenchard. " "You are a party concerned. He had no wish to drag the footman out of his way, once he had got his questions answered. And then she came out into the street, sure only of one thing—that she could not return directly to her lodgings. Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. ’ She raised the pistol.
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