She went into premature labor. “You must arrest me!” she gasped, breathlessly, insisting insanely on a point already carried; “you shall!” The police-station at the end seemed to Ann Veronica like a refuge from unnamable disgraces. “You’re just a boy! You grow moody and spellbound, John, and the next moment you are ecstatic. “I am sick of it. He returned her to her door at a decent hour, well before 10:00. ‘So it was. But why this part of the plan now seemed to her quite unattractive was a question she did not care to examine too closely.
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