I struck him across the face, twisted the steering wheel of the motor, sprang out myself, and left him for dead on the road with the motor on top of him. He would take with him that traitress Yolande, and claim to the lawyer that this was Melusine Charvill. Anna opened a cupboard and produced cups and saucers and a tin of coffee. There came a wild rush of anthropological lore into her brain, a flare of indecorous humor. The comtesse always felt Madame Valade to be not of her class, of course. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent.
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