” “No,” said Ann Veronica, offhandedly. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. He picked up the remote and sat himself to her right. “If you wish,” he said, “I will go there in the morning and see what can be done for him.
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