"Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. I sha’n’t care a rap if we can never marry. . . “You are very stupid, Anna,” she said. He was not, in truth, much of a ladies’ man. 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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