Annabel was in hiding all the time. For a time Ann Veronica went on her way gauging the quality of sordid streets. ” “I’ve told you,” he said. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. But in between these wider phases of comparative confidence were gaps of disconcerting doubt, when the universe was presented as making sinister and threatening faces at her, defying her to defy, preparing a humiliating and shameful overthrow. His bodily suffering, however, was nothing compared with his mental anguish.
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