“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. There was only one clean spot in the picture—the ship's wash (all white) that fluttered on a line stretched between the two masts. ‘You know about that?’ ‘It was the only possible deduction.
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