My poor son despairs of me, for I have primed every member of the family to bring me the latest novels whenever they choose to visit. "Why, what the devil would you have had me do!—make myself scarce, eh? You should have tipped me the wink. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had. A film of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient. That would be an unkind twist of fate. Or perhaps my father once.
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