The question ceased to be a tea-table talk, and became suddenly tragically real for Ann Veronica. ’ ‘In any event,’ Gerald told her, with a grin, ‘I can’t marry this one. The mode of destruction makes no difference. I cannot go on. I might as well be at Morningside Park. If Jack Sheppard or his mother ever enter this house again, I leave it—that's all. ’ It was the Press who forced the identity upon me. It was the grand nursery of vice. She woke up choking and belching water.
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