“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. I will do all this not because I love you, but—because you are Anna’s sister. “I have come for an explanation,” she said. Besides, you have so many talents, you build things. I must apologize for my young puppy of a clerk. They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. No—you shall come with me to Waterloo.
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