Part 3 Ann Veronica’s father was a solicitor with a good deal of company business: a lean, trustworthy, worried-looking, neuralgic, clean-shaven man of fifty-three, with a hard mouth, a sharp nose, iron-gray hair, gray eyes, gold-framed glasses, and a small, circular baldness at the crown of his head. ” “Fine. The little grating in the door, the sense of constant inspection, worried her. Both Ruth and McClintock came down to the launch to wish him God-speed and good luck. Its cavernous expanses equaled the upstairs of the house. ‘But of course. ” John took his hand away. “If you really are going to wait, make yourself as comfortable as you can. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose.
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