If it was not an actual personal lover, it still might be the lover not yet incarnate, not yet perhaps suspected. Each time that we meet I try to kill you. 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. At the precise period of this history, the Jacobite party was full of hope and confidence. “You understand, then,” he was saying, “you understand?” “I understand,” said Ann Veronica, tear-wet and flushed with a reciprocal passion, but standing up to him with an equality that amazed even herself, “I understand. He can cure all diseases of the flesh as I taught him. Ann Veronica ignored her friend’s confusion. She dropped the locket into its sweet hiding place. "I have never been out of this horrible dungeon since we last met," he said; "though how long ago that is, I scarcely know.
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