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Chapter Eight
u.

    I , I o be quite beyond embarrassment. I am only surprised.

    t take a satisfaction from t I s o  is someto me, o y of yourdays.

    ingly my cill.

    do you knohose?

    I surmise, from my observation of the house . . .

    No edly:  do you this?

    Of w, sir?

    Of reys cing, now, of pography.

    Pography?

    Rivers, says Mr rey. You are a young man. I appeal to you. Can t record of tory act—

    Record! says my uncle, peevisary! the age!

    —of tory act, tograp t tograper to t of t is an image of life, and age over it: t it endures,  finish and fade.

    Dot a book endure? asks my uncle, plucking at the arm of his chair.

    It enduret, in a pograp speak tograp in an Englis last us all, and I provoke  in our grandsons. It is a t from ory.1

    It is gripped by ory! ans is corrupted by it! Its ory  it like so muc, in

    tting of a slipper, a goograpo your grandson: udy t.  tips of your moustac  you think so Rivers?

    I do, sir.

    You kno alloypes and nonsense like t into my collection?

    I t not to, sir.

    Mr rey so my uncle: You still believe pograp  come to reet, and spend an o c is all our buyers come for.

    Your buyers are brutes.  business  is your opinion as to ty of reys trade . . .?

    te alk until triking of ten oclock—whem.

    t is t. Mr Rivers is due to remain at Briar until Sunday. Next day I am kept from t supper cero sit again  come to my side. Saturday I  see urda
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