Sordid; but that was not Ruth's term for it; she had no precise commentary to offer. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. Quilt Arnold was stationed at the stair-head, near which the boat containing the captive boy was moored. Observe it—a blue-serge coat. Wood obeyed.
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