It began to rain, a cold sweat of precipitation that was more sickly than refreshing. She was marvellously pretty, but he was not quite sure—yet—that it was advisable for him to sit with her in so public a place. “Where should we go?” Knowing that they would be dogged wherever they went, she volunteered, “Let’s go to the Big Apple. “MY DEAR VERONICA,—Your aunt tells me you have involved yourself in some arrangement with the Widgett girls about a Fancy Dress Ball in London.
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