" "You have made no such arrangements as will compromise me, I hope, Sir Rowland?" said Wild, hastily. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. “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. For that such a man does not mind about the dowry, he must be in love en désespoir.
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