She had viewed them askance, and without exchanging ideas with any one else in the world about them. Stanley, having pretended to linger to smoke, fled suddenly up-stairs to petrography, and when Veronica tapped he answered through the locked door, “Go away, Vee! I’m busy,” and made a lapidary’s wheel buzz loudly. "That's an incorrigible rascal," he added, as Sheppard closed the door; "it's only to-day that I discovered—" "What?" asked Jackson, pricking up his ears. It was a cheerful, irresponsible, shamelessly hard-up family in the key of faded green and flattened purple, and the girls went on from the High School to the Fadden Art School and a bright, eventful life of art student dances, Socialist meetings, theatre galleries, talking about work, and even, at intervals, work; and ever and again they drew Ann Veronica from her sound persistent industry into the circle of these experiences. Lucy dug out an old light gray cotton miniskirt that had shrunk on Shari in the wash. She has no proof—yet.
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