She’s as stubborn as the proverbial mule, and—’ with a sigh that felt wrenched out of him ‘—utterly captivating. She never questioned the motives of the characters; she had neither the ability nor the conceit for that; but she could and often did correct his lapses in colour. ‘What do you do here?’ demanded the young lady, moving to meet him. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. No—you shall come with me to Waterloo. “He’s got almost to like it. Get on with it, then. Gods! what it must be to pour out strong, splendid verse—mighty lines! mighty lines! If I do, Ann Veronica, it will be you. Very likely by this time the whole truth is known.
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