Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. But, by Jove! it’s going to make our loving a fiercely abstract thing. “Look here,” he cried out of a silence, with a sudden flash of understanding, “did you mean to throw me over when you came out with me this afternoon?” Ann Veronica hesitated, and with a startled mind realized the truth. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. The hope that had been suddenly kindled in the youth's bosom was as suddenly extinguished. Any financial return was inconsiderable against the promise of this psychological treat. His movements became quicker, and she made grinding motions with her hips that began to please her as well. As to Jack Sheppard, he appeared utterly reckless and insensible, and did nothing but whistle and sing the whole way. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place.
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