“My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. "It's the boy's death-warrant," observed Jonathan, with a sinister smile. There’s the internal factor as well as the external. There was now a girl in the picture, so it seemed. Anna glanced into her sister’s face, and rose to her feet. I thought that he was dead.
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