"Unless you have eaten a Syrian orange," he was always saying, "you have only a rudimentary idea of what an orange is. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. It seems Valade visited him that day to present his credentials, and Charvill posted straight off to inform his great-uncle.
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