“I suppose he’s frightfully clever,” said Miss Klegg. m. ‘I went to see him because I thought he ought to know about you, having already been imposed upon by our friend Gosse. You want music. He gently took the roses from her and laid them on the pillow. And this idiot, he has threatened to arrest me and make them take me to prison. His favorite newspaper was the Times, which he began at breakfast in the morning often with manifest irritation, and carried off to finish in the train, leaving no other paper at home. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. Do not oppose it, and I will serve you. ‘We mean you no harm,’ he said reassuringly.
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