“And think, think”—her voice sank —“of the horrible coarseness!” “What coarseness?” said Ann Veronica. "Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. Jiggle-joggle, jiggle-joggle…! For each pause she was grateful. He has no imagination, no real generosity.
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