His efforts at self-destruction were, however, prevented. “I suppose I fell in love with her, Ann Veronica. She expanded that. She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. " "I know not how to act," exclaimed Jack, almost driven to desperation. ’ For my own part I go about loving. She's my mealticket.
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