It seemed quite unfamiliar.
"Was your father a great friend of Mr.Fentolin's, then ?" she asked.
"I believe so, in a sort of way," he answered.

"My father was Hamel the artist, you know.

They made him an R.A.some time before he died.

He used to come out here and live in a tent.

Then Mr.Fentolin let him use this place and finally sold it to him.