He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. 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. I'm thinking that the Wastrel was one day a celebrated professional; and the women were partly the cause of his fall. Annabel, come to the door with me,” she added a little abruptly. He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing. " CHAPTER IX. She discovered him sitting upon the floor beside his open trunk. Then pain entered their depths.
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