“He’s a Fellow of the Royal Society, and he can’t be much over thirty,” said Miss Klegg. She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. " At this juncture, two women, very smartly attired in silk hoods and cloaks, appeared at the door of the Lodge. . He cherished her. Could she understand what she was talking about? Luckily it was a second-class carriage and the ordinary fellowtravellers were not there. "Your son is a lad of spirit, Mr. “I had a faint idea once that things were as you say they are, but the affair of the ring—of the unexpected ring—puzzled me.
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