The air became hot and swollen with June humidity. Ann Veronica, who knew her dress became her, dropped a curtsy to her father’s regard. They had scrubbed and dusted, torn down and hung up until noon. Life seemed a very brave and glorious enterprise to Ann Veronica that day. “Gods,” she said, at last, “I’ve done it this time!” “Well!” She took up the neat morocco purse, opened it, and examined the contents. Sheppard put out her arms mechanically. “Very well,” he said.
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