That dress is thirty years old, if a day. Racing, he reached it perhaps a moment or two later. He would know her address to-morrow. "Did you ever see the like of her?" "No," answered McClintock, gravely. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. There were lines in her face that age had not put there.
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