’ ‘Merci,’ she sighed and, surrendering at last to his oft-proffered aid, allowed her head to droop onto his chest. Since Jack has left us, what does it matter whether he's pleased or not?" At this moment, a whistle was heard. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her. “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.
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