. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. 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. Jolly nice girl, too. Wood, contemptuously, "he'll never mend till he comes to Tyburn.
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