Jack seemed glad enough to rest, his back against the wall, and closed his eyes. A brief feeling of empathy with Pottiswick passed through him. “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. “Yes, I know. "It'll ease your mind. “As things are at present,” she said, “it is true. ” He beamed over the effect of this and shook hands with effusion, and Lady Palsworthy suddenly appeared as his confederate and disentangled the vicar’s aunt. I’ve got imagination.
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