"I hardly know," returned Jack; "but it's not safe for me to remain much longer here. We’re going in. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. You would suffer the torments of the damned for what you had done. The bed was hard beyond any experience of hers, the bed-clothes coarse and insufficient, the cell at once cold and stuffy. “Ann Veronica,” he said, “I tell you this is love. ” “You are willing to give up your position, your beautiful houses, your carriages and milliner’s accounts to come back to Bohemianism?” “Why not?” Annabel declared.
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