He would always be her friend, too. Perhaps there were experiences she would never confide to any man. Ann Veronica wondered what her father would do if she were to tell him the full story of her relations with Ramage. But, uttering a loud cry, he was swept away by the headlong torrent. 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. "What ho!" he cried slapping Smith, who had fallen asleep with the brandybottle in his grasp, upon the shoulder.
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