” A fair-haired young Englishman looked up from the depths of his easy chair. “I killed him. ‘How do you know?’ ‘Exactly,’ pounced Roding bitterly. 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.
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