Part 5 Ann Veronica’s resolve to have things out with her father was not accomplished without difficulty. His eyes were fixed upon the tablecloth. "My chickens are hatched, or, at least, nearly so," replied Shotbolt, with increased merriment. The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style.
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