” And while he talked and watched her as he talked, she answered, and behind her listening watched and thought about him. Never for a moment had violence come between these two since long ago he had, in spite of her mother’s protest in the background, carried her kicking and squalling to the nursery for some forgotten crime. For a time Ann Veronica went on her way gauging the quality of sordid streets. “He fancied that he did,” she corrected him coolly. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said.
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