” He rolled his eyes, trying 190 to conceal pride. She walked back to the car. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. He was a wonderful little creature with a perfect tiny face, mottled pink cheeks, and eyes brighter than May. “I won’t have you quarrelling and crying in the Avenue,” he said. I'm not noble; so my honourable ancestors will not turn over in their graves. It’s—it’s a social difference. Or had you not noticed?’ He sneered. One glance swept across the place and it was immediately apparent that Pottiswick had not, this time, been mistaken. Which is why I wasn’t able to see him until today. “My dear boy,” she exclaimed. "Perhaps you don't know that this Darrell so contrived matters, that your child should be mistaken for his own; by which means it had a narrow escape from a tight cravat, I can assure you. He had been abusing them for a long time when I arrived. The likeness was ridiculous. But I am here.
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