" "Very well. Yours?" The stranger hesitated. I’ve told you that practically already. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. Remote little Ann Veronica! She would never know the heart of that child again! That child had loved fairy princes with velvet suits and golden locks, and she was in love with a real man named Capes, with little gleams of gold on his cheek and a pleasant voice and firm and shapely hands. She had asked to borrow his pencil out of dire necessity. Mischief bubbled up in her.
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