She had slept badly at first in a long chair next to the fire waiting for him to return, but caught on after that. She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. I mean my cut-offs and boots. “I love you, Ann Veronica. But one must disguise oneself. I wouldn't have him see me in this state for the world.
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