” “Thank you,” Anna answered coldly. These daughters! He gnawed his pen and reflected, tore the sheet up, and began again. 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. She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull.
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