Every time you mention the father, she turns into marble. The candle was shaking in his hand as Ruth appeared in the doorway. She had neither the semi-boisterousness of the average American girl nor the chilling insolence of the English. 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. She was the consummate mother, even when extremely tired, she missed nothing. After dinner Ann Veronica went into the drawing-room with Miss Stanley, and her father went up to his den for his pipe and pensive petrography. 1. ‘Have no fear,’ he uttered soothingly, reaching out to pat her free hand.
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