82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. " "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard. " "You believe it, father?" "From the bottom of my heart. And she’s pluck to the backbone. ’ Handing over the guineas, he added, ‘For you. She had the same sharp nose—which, indeed, only Ann Veronica, of all the family, had escaped. ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. You don’t want to look like Bozo. She was a trained being—trained by an implacable mother to one end.
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