"Well, Sir?" gasped Sir Rowland. 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. He did not know what her game was, although he had a shrewd suspicion that she had been co-opted into it by her supposed husband, the soi-disant Valade. ’ ‘When you begin to tell the truth,’ Gerald told her severely, ‘I shall be happy to believe you.
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