" The woollen-draper made no answer, but hastily starting up, bolted the door. Wood,—"he'll never mend. ” He shrugged his shoulders. . There, hanging among Ann Veronica’s more normal clothing, was a skimpy dress of red canvas, trimmed with cheap and tawdry braid, and short—it could hardly reach below the knee. If I surprised her, if I saw her alone, I might make her understand.
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