But the morning brought courage again, and those first intimations of horror vanished completely from her mind. 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. He appeared suddenly from the infinite in the neighborhood of the Burlington Arcade, crossing the pavement toward her and with his eyes upon her. She ignored his question. I was sure you could not have the heart to slay a child—an innocent child.
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