Ann Veronica’s experiences of men had been among more stable types—Teddy, who was always absurd; her father, who was always authoritative and sentimental; Manning, who was always Manning. For a moment none of them stirred; then slowly Enschede turned away. A disconcerting gray eye that had a mystifying depth. He was carelessly dressed, and there were marks of unrest upon his features. " "You'd better hold your peace, my lad," observed Jonathan, in a menacing tone.
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