‘And I’ll say it as often as I choose, you confounded impertinent wench! Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m your grandfather, girl. Gentlemen! a glass of brandy will be no bad finish to our meal. I felt—wrapped in thick cobwebs. My reception at West Kensington you know of. One little minute with soap and water, voilà tout. ’ ‘But she must have known I’d longed to hear of you.
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