CHAPTER XIII. “All your dreadful scientific things?” he said, with a smile that Miss Klegg thought extraordinarily kindly. The Widgett mental furniture was perhaps worn and shabby, but there it was before you, undisguised, fading visibly in an almost pitiless sunlight. The owner of this dress had a broad weather-beaten face, small twinkling eyes, and a bushy, grizzled beard.
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