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. Figg?" said Jack, peevishly. If this girl hadn't busted into the game, Spurlock would still be at the hotel. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately. Meanwhile, the clergyman, bare-headed and in his surplice, advanced to meet them. She wasn’t sure of herself when she said it.
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