But I don’t care; I haven’t a spark of shame. Almost instantly she had recognized the fallacy of such a statement. You don’t know what you ask nor what you say. “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. He could only wonder that this amazing thing had remained so long a secret to him. “I can tell you are thinking about it. For the love of Heaven, Jack, don't move!—Don't alter a muscle, if you can help it. He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and white tie. Shall I bring off anything?" he added, looking eagerly round.
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