It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. 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. CHAPTER VII. “She seems an unusually clever girl,” said Ramage. He murmured his delight, and joined the bridge party, where he played with less than his accustomed skill. ‘Perhaps she don’t understand English,’ suggested Roding. Can you come over?” “I think so.
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