” He made his voice very low and full, and looked closely into her face. “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. (“No, no. " The girl's blood ran warmly for a minute. He unlocked himself from her embrace. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. Then he turned with a fierce movement to take her into his arms. With his foodle doo! This carpenter he had a wife, The plague and torment of his life, Who, though she did her husband scold, Loved well a woollen-draper bold. 'But I don't desire to spoil sport,—not I.
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