I was just staggering under the impact of these two when I found myself being introduced to a couple of ancient females with shawls all over them.
“No doubt you remember my mother?” said Professor Pringle, mournfully, indicating Exhibit A.
“Oh, ah!” I said, achieving a bit of a beam.
“And my aunt,” sighed the prof, as if things were getting worse and worse.
“Well, well, well!” I said, shooting another beam in the direction of Exhibit B.
“They were saying only this morning that they remembered you,” groaned the prof, abandoning all hope.
There was a pause. The whole strength of the company gazed at me like a family group out of one of Edgar Allan Poe’s less