Part 3 Ann Veronica’s father was a solicitor with a good deal of company business: a lean, trustworthy, worried-looking, neuralgic, clean-shaven man of fifty-three, with a hard mouth, a sharp nose, iron-gray hair, gray eyes, gold-framed glasses, and a small, circular baldness at the crown of his head. At that a new element poured into her excitement, an element of wild disgust and terror. . . “Useless—worse than useless. The thing is to get the patient on his feet. The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United States. To find the incentive! But how? Thither and yon the idea roved, seeking the way. She had come to despise those who were fertile out of pure jealousy, but could not admit it to herself.
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