Even if you pretend sometimes to be without sense. ” “You said you loved me – did you mean it?” He said. 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. “I won’t pretend,” he said, “that this is an accident. We shall have Mr. Maggot, dealing him a buffet that sent him reeling several yards backwards. ‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. His breath grew shallower as he approached the room, conscious of the loudness of his hallway-reverberated footfalls. She felt herself getting into a corner.
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