" "Do you suppose he knew?" "He? Oh, you mean Mr. The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. “It’s just that he doesn’t seem like your type.
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