He dressed rather after the fashion of the West End than the City, and affected a cultured urbanity that somehow disconcerted and always annoyed Ann Veronica’s father extremely. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. Each became frightfully aware of the other as a plastic energetic body, of the strong muscles of neck against cheek, of hands gripping shoulder-blade and waist. "Safe!" shouted Darrell, as he effected a secure landing. So you, Jacques, must go and wait for me with the horse. He has been a father to me and my child.
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