Diane Vorsack clicked her tongue in a “tsk”. Then she passed from the room on the arm of General Lord Charvill, chatting animatedly to him. 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. "So he may," rejoined Abraham, aloud, "so he may. Miss Stanley reflected on this proposal for a moment. That's part of the bargain. The problem had returned, made gigantic by the possibility of Ruth's love. He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features.
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