Ennison’s signet-ring had cut nearly to the bone. It gave her great satisfaction to hear that Madame Chamberlain had spent a night in the county jail, even if the nocturnal activities picked right up again after two weeks. The settlement was on the middle west coast. 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. ’ Madame ventured a glance up at his face, and fluttered her lashes.
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