155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. "Vat ish it, Mishter Vild?" inquired Mendez. From time to time, however, he was baffled. 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. The meat was coarse and disagreeably served. . After all, what can it matter? It was just to make sure.
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