“So am I the jewel or the bug inside?” He smiled. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. “Dare!” she said. Manning, in his entirely different dialect, indorsed her brother Roddy’s view of things. “They ought to have been lopped in the spring. I'll have a peep at him, if I die for it," she muttered, as she went out. .
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