He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. I want him as my friend. There was a pause, while the steel grey eyes sliced at her. How is she?” “My sister is quite well, thank you,” she answered. 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.
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