Part 5 Ann Veronica’s resolve to have things out with her father was not accomplished without difficulty. A tourist caravan of four pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street. In stature, he was short and stumpy; in person, corpulent; and in countenance, sleek, snub-nosed, and demure. “I have waited for this,” he said, and stood quite still, looking at her until the silence became oppressive. " "I forgot to mention there's a trifling reward for his capture," cried Shotbolt, popping his head from under the cloth. “Here we are, living in the same suburb,” he began. A chill ran through his frame, and, grasping the heavy weapon with which chance had provided him, prepared to strike down the first person who should enter the cell.
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