“My dear,” she began, with an affectionate hand on Ann Veronica’s shoulder, “I do SO wish you would realize how it grieves your father. He then mounted the jaded hack, which had long since regained its legs, and was quietly browsing the grass at the road-side, and, striking spurs into its side, rode off. Jove, he didn’t take to it kindly, I can tell you. Still unconscious of anything he did physically. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. ‘Do you think I would do to him as he made a threat to do to me? No. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded.
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