“My God!” he said at last, with tremendous feeling, and then again, “My God!” Now that this thing was said her mind was clear and calm. “We must go. The more haste, the worse speed—better the feet slip than the tongue. There was a shrill cry, instantly succeeded by a deep splash. He was unusually absurd and ready, and all the time it seemed to Ann Veronica as a delightful possibility, as a thing not indeed to be entertained seriously, but to be half furtively felt, that he was being so agreeable because she had come back again. Of late, however, his plotting had assumed a more dark and dangerous complexion.
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