‘So now we come to it. “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. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. She looked upon it with pity as she drank his diabetic blood and saw that several of his fingers were missing. ’ He quirked an eyebrow. ’ ‘Now that’s where you’re wrong.
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