And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. He loved Ann Veronica, he said; he was so mad to have her that he defeated himself, and did crude and alarming and senseless things. I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother. I know well that you are making a game with me. I believe I am doomed to be an old maid. In the midst of this light stood a young woman. CHAPTER XXXII. org Title: Ann Veronica Author: H.
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