Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. “You could have a talk to Miss Kitty Brett this afternoon, if you liked. Her pat answer to all inquiries was, “I let my sister Shari make me over,” while she kept from staring at her own reflection in the shiny shoes past her bare knees. And she seemed always to keep one eye on Ann Veronica’s dress.
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