“Ass!” he went on, still warming. Secretly she was gratified to be assigned to the rôle of an old traveller. 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. He turned his back on that temptation. Probably she was married years ago and is now merely on the way to her husband's house.
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