Wood, who were, furthermore, engaged in a little conjugal tête-à-tête of their own. 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. “Drugs, mainly. Your aunt liked the pheasant.
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