“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. Ann Veronica tried to seem absolutely unconcerned. "Dying, Sir Rowland. ‘I don’t want that girl running her head into any more danger. ’ ‘It will give me the greatest of pleasure,’ Gerald said at once, making an elegant leg. Suppose—suppose a girl did want to start in life, start in life for herself—” She looked him frankly in the eyes.
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