"Constance—or, rather, Mrs. ‘You see, it is that I am a female, and you all are men. 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. I did so. “I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked. "You!" cried Jack, scornfully.
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