The door closed upon her, and he moved reluctantly away. “If I didn’t love you better than myself,” said Capes, “I wouldn’t fence like this with you. If you know her for the vicious, scheming wretch that she is, why in God’s name—?’ ‘She’s not a vicious, scheming wretch,’ Gerald said calmly. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. “Who can tell?” she said. “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. It would have saved me much circumlocution, and you some suspense.
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