"When I parted from you at Mr. Wood resounded from below. It was a letter. Love anywhere. As she raised it, its lower portion fell apart into two baggy crimson masses. Jack's nose was broad and flat; Darrell's straight and fine as that of Antinous. 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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