" "What do you think of my sketch, Jack?" said Hogarth, handing him the drawing. “Thought so. 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. ‘Don’t be silly. . The galleries adjoining it were crowded with spectators,—so was the roof of a large tavern, then the only house standing at the end of the Edgeware Road,—so were the trees,—the walls of Hyde Park,—a neighbouring barn, a shed,—in short, every available position. I should as soon think of trusting a woman. " "As for that, I don't say. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. Sheppard. She paused. Wood from pressing his suit long ago.
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