Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember. She twanged the catgut under her fingers. "Jack," continued Thames, addressing Sheppard, who had only just recovered from the blow, and regained his feet, "I don't ask how you came here, nor do I blame your rashness in doing so. " He did not reply. 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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