" Then he became merciful. 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. What was their surprise to find it vacant, and the prisoner gone! Jonathan, could scarcely believe his eyes. We’re going in. He shuddered. Her fancy dress, save for the green-gray stockings, the pseudo-Turkish slippers, and baggy silk trousered ends natural to a Corsair’s bride, was hidden in a large black-silk-hooded operacloak. “She doesn’t know.
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