. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. "You begin to have doubts, eh? A handful of money between you, and nothing else. You do not love your husband, you have married him for a position —to escape from—things which you feared. F. Wood. The lines about his mouth gradually softened. 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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