‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Martha begged. Last time I left home I felt as hard as nails. Both, perhaps?’ At that, her eyes darkened with fury. He helped himself to a beer, then a vodka and tonic, then two rum and Cokes. 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.
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