And I've got, thank heaven," said Mr.Longdon, "quite prejudices enough." "Then I hope you'll tell me some of them," Nanda replied in a tone evidently marking how much he pleased her.
"Ah you must do as _I_ do--you must find out for yourself.

Your resemblance to your grandmother is quite prodigious," he immediately added.
"That's what I wish you'd tell me about--your recollection of her and your wonderful feeling about her.

Mother has told me things, but that I should have something straight from you is exactly what she also wants.
My grandmother must have been awfully nice," the girl rambled on, "and I somehow don't see myself at all as the same sort of person." "Oh I don't say you're in the least the same sort: all I allude to," Mr.Longdon returned, "is the miracle of the physical heredity.

Nothing could be less like her than your manner and your talk." Nanda looked at him with all her honesty.

"They're not so good, you must think." He hung fire an instant, but was as honest as she.