He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love. ” “Delusion!” he muttered, glaring at her. He had brought the shrubs down from Syria, and, strangely enough, they had prospered. “I’d chuck this lark right off if I were you, Vee,” he said. The picture of Mary Remenham was still on the wall. “Have you ever kissed a guy before?” She rolled the tissue into a ball in her lap and stared at it. ” His walk became a jovial saunter. End of Project Gutenberg's Anna the Adventuress, by E. CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering.
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