“Here’s something rather good,” he said, and with a start and an effort she took his place at the microscope, while he stood beside her and almost leaning over her. “You permitted me then to call you my friend. “Marriage certificates don’t tell lies, at any rate,” he said. Her eyes were lit with a gleam of humour. Don’t you think? Tum, tay, tum, tay. ‘And with my grandfather Charvill also so very angry, it was not perhaps so very comfortable for my father. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat.
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