” He replied lightly and stepped towards her. The pole-chair caravan resumed its journey. ” He passed his hand wearily over his forehead. 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. Then her eyes flashed. “Then let me be the judge of what is best,” she answered. He winced from the wasp-like sting.
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