“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. In all these weeks she had not once knelt to pray. ” “No,” he said, and tried again: “but I must tell you quite definitely that I feel it to be my duty to forbid any such exploit. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica.
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