Steeples toppled, and towers reeled beneath its fury. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. Returning in moments, Mr. He was content to talk about himself, though in the back of his clever mind he already suspected that she was not offering any details about her life. He had, he felt, to create certain ideas and vivify certain curiosities and feelings in her.
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