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. ’ The sharp eyes twinkled. ‘You cannot mean General Charvill?’ ‘That old martinet?’ exclaimed Roding. laws alone swamp our small staff. “Ruin me? For what? Posterity? How could you ruin me, Lucy? What on earth are you talking about?” He got up and began to pace the room.
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