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 whither The Tigress was bound or who the owner was lay beyond the reach of Ah Cum's deductions. “You ass and imbecile, Ann Veronica! You female cad! Cad! Cad!. . Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house.
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