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. “Perhaps by this time you will have heard of the step I have taken in leaving my home. ‘It is not easy. ” “Friends!” said her father. "What's that?—Jack's voice!" "It is," replied her son. Ann Veronica watched her face, vaguely sympathizing with her, vaguely disliking her physical insufficiency and her convulsive movements, and the fine eyebrows were knit with a faint perplexity. “No, I am alone,” she answered. ‘But how did she meet such a person in a convent?’ ‘He was wounded and came there for sanctuary,’ Gerald explained, adding almost through his teeth. " "I know not how it is," sighed Darrell, "but I feel an unaccountable misgiving at quitting this place. “She appears to be very popular here,” she remarked. ‘Though he didn’t mean it. .
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