Somebody tricked you back yonder—baited you for spite. Was he planning on spending more time with her once in the country? The streets choked with beggars and the dying. ‘Do not beg my pardon. “Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed. Well-balanced, sane, wasn’t I? You never heard anyone call me a madman? I’m pretty near being one now, and it’s her fault. “I will not have this slavery.
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