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Re-issued with new cover October 2013. She shattered the edifice he was building up of
himself as a devoted lover, waiting only his chance to win her from a hopeless
and consuming passion. 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 next morning came a compact
letter from her father. He was at length rescued from his assailants,—
rescued to perish, seven months afterwards, with every ignominy, at the very
gibbet to which he had brought his victim. "
"Nor any one else in his senses," rejoined Wood, with a laugh. Have I your final answer?"
"You have, Sir Rowland," she answered, in a feeble tone, but firmly. “Does it hurt?” Michelle asked.
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