The City worried him a good deal, and what energy he had left over he spent partly in golf, a game he treated very seriously, and partly in the practices of microscopic petrography. “But, my dear!” said Ann Veronica’s aunt. She resumed her on guard position, and glaring steadily at him, waited again. ‘So yours is the rattling tongue, is it, young madam?’ ‘I should say so. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. I knew it.
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