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. ‘Keep your distance! You dare to tell me I cannot refuse?’ He glared at the girl. "Do you take me for a thiefcatcher, like Jonathan Wild, that you dare to affront me by such a proposal?" "No offence, Sir," rejoined the jailer, humbly.
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