He couldn't tell me anything I didn't know about the old boy's
eccentricity. This Lord Worplesdon was Florence's father. He was the old
buster who, a few years later, came down to breakfast one morning. Lifted
the first cover he saw, said 'Eggs! Eggs! Eggs! Damn all eggs!' in an
overwrought sort of voice, and instantly legged it for France, never to
return to the bosom of his family. This, mind you, being a bit of luck for
the bosom of the family, for old Worplesdon had the worst temper in... Continuar leyendo