She didn’t choose her man. “Look here,” he cried out of a silence, with a sudden flash of understanding, “did you mean to throw me over when you came out with me this afternoon?” Ann Veronica hesitated, and with a startled mind realized the truth. She dreaded leaving him for the night, but separated herself finally. She stood, as it were, directed doorward, with her eyes watching every movement, listening to him, repelled by him and yet dimly understanding. "A bad girl?" She put the question as she would have put any question—leveleyed and level-toned. "But you said you weren't particular. And as he walked by her side they began a wrangle that was none the less pleasant to Ann Veronica because it served to banish a disagreeable preoccupation. " Animated by his insatiate desire of vengeance, he seemed to gain strength daily, —so much so, that within a fortnight after receiving his wound he was able to stir abroad. "One'd think it rained fares, as well as blowed great guns. The day was unseasonably humid and dark, a thick fog having descended over manicured lawns. I just suppose it isn’t worth the trouble.
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