‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter. . She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips. Returning to Mrs Sindlesham’s chair, he held up the miniature so the face depicted there was turned towards the old lady. "Won't be under an obligation. He’d borne mention of the woman’s name. ” “I hope,” he answered, looking at her in some surprise, “that we shall have many more such to think about. I hope we may never find her again. “Here’s something rather good,” he said, and with a start and an effort she took his place at the microscope, while he stood beside her and almost leaning over her.
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