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. But here was new music, tender and kindly and whimsical, that first roved to and fro in the mind and then cuddled up in the heart. "Thames!—Thames!" cried Winifred, rushing to the window. How I could have been such a fool I’ll never know.
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