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“I thought I saw her in town to-day,” he said. Fortescue?” “At your service. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. ‘He’d have been that happy if he’d known how you’re the spit of her, miss. She flung aside every plan she had in life, every discretion. 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.
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