He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. “And what is it all about, Veronica?” he asked, with a deliberate note of irony, looking at her a little quizzically over his glasses. ‘And she’s—’ She broke off, a sudden light in her eyes. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. It seems only yesterday that she was running down the Avenue, all hair and legs. She closed her eyes, discerning the divinations he had been up to during her violin concert. Courtlaw for his true verdict, and he gave it me. Anna sprang to her feet and made for the dressing-room door. ‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. "Only my darbies," returned Jack, clinking his chains. It's a mighty quare 'un, though. ‘But how did she meet such a person in a convent?’ ‘He was wounded and came there for sanctuary,’ Gerald explained, adding almost through his teeth. " "Did I hear you aright?" asked Trenchard, with startling eagerness.
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