She slid the dress off, naked underneath. "Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind. "No friend like the mother, for the babby knows no other. " "Ah! traitor!" cried Jack, who had noticed the movement; "make such another attempt, and it shall cost you your life. But the relief from the strain of her immediate necessities was immense. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers.
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