From the opposite corner under the trees a man with his hat slouched over his eyes stood and glowered at them. “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. Quilt Arnold was stationed at the stair-head, near which the boat containing the captive boy was moored. ‘Jacques? Oh, that is news of the very finest.
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