Part 2 Ann Veronica carried a light but business-like walking-stick. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. Arrived at his habitation, Jonathan knocked in a peculiar manner at the door, which was instantly opened by the grim-visaged porter just alluded to. The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution. And, if I'd my own way with the Secretary of State, he never should. ‘Lord,’ Gerald uttered, his inexplicable annoyance evaporating. '—'No fear o' that,' thought I.
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