’ ‘I think you understand me very well. 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. His throat filled; he wanted to weep. His slightest move caused her infinite pleasure. “TROUSERS!” she whispered. He leaned forward to better drink her in. Farewell.
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