He was a wonderful little creature with a perfect tiny face, mottled pink cheeks, and eyes brighter than May. He slapped his knee. You don’t deserve it, but he does. "We have had a sad loss, my dear Winifred," he began,—"for I must use the privilege of an old friend, and address you by that familiar name,—we have had a sad loss in the death of your lamented parent, whose memory I shall for ever revere. "Sir Rowland, I salute you as your nephew.
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