“Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. "Lord, if I can only remember to write it exactly as you told it!" He jumped to his feet. "My lips would belie my heart were I to refuse you. . ” He read it in winter in the evening after dinner, and Ann Veronica associated it with a tendency to monopolize the lamp, and to spread a very worn pair of dappled fawn-skin slippers across the fender. ‘I thought it was his great-nephew, young Brewis Charvill, who is his heir.
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