That same adventurousness that had already buoyed her through crises that would have overwhelmed any normally feminine girl with shame and horror now became uppermost again. " "This is folly," cried Jack, controlling himself by a powerful effort. 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. Sheppard, averting her face to hide her tears. I will do anything and everything I can to become your equal. “Are there others like you?” “Yes.
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