" And he conferred apart with Jonathan. ‘Exactly like my father. Painting is only one slender branch of the great tree. “I mean it. Once I banged on the door so hard I split it in two. “And what is it all about, Veronica?” he asked, with a deliberate note of irony, looking at her a little quizzically over his glasses. He could not quite make her out; a new type. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her.
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