If hate could kill, Ramage would have been killed by a flash of hate. 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. Upon this topic Capes was heavy and conscientious, but that seemed to her to be just exactly what he ought to be.
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