On a high chair behind a raised counter the stipendiary’s substitute regarded her malevolently over his glasses. “I hope that whatever your plans may be, you will give me the opportunity of seeing something of you now and then. He was no Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and drink-shattered intellect. He has been bottling it up all the way from West Kensington. It isn’t what I have been but what I am. Possessed of you, I shall have a treasure such as kings could not boast. I am shockingly poor.
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