A distinguished gentleman sat in a burgundy leather chair, an Ekornes Stressless with matching footstool, trimmed in oak; so comfortable you hardly know your sitting, more like floating except that your nose isn't bumping against the ceiling unless, of course, you were in a room with a four-foot ceiling in which case it probably would be; bumping against the ceiling, that is; your nose.
Lord William observed the distinguished gentleman with an eye (his left, mostly, which was his best eye, rather, it needed the least correction to be perfect, although not in the Greek sense) and after a few moments of careful, if slightly nearsighted observation, pronounced,
"You look strangely familiar."
The distinguished gentleman regarded Lord William with an equally slightly nearsighted left eye, that, coincidentally was only slightly less nearsighted than his right eye, meaning that he could nearly see farther, more clearly with his left eye than his right eye, although he could drive a car without too many problems and had learned to ignore all the rude horn honking and yelling, which had become easier to ignore due to his partial deafness, but that's another story, and after taking a swig of his gin and tonic replied,
"Strange or familiar? Strange in a familiar way, or familiar in a strange way?"
Lord William thought carefully. Yes, he thought, I should have refreshed the lemon in my G&T, and answered, "B. Definitely B. I'll put 500 on B, Alex."
The distinguished gentleman regarded his G&T carefully, as a jeweler might regard a rough diamond he's about to fracture into either the perfect gemstone or a pile of rubble, and not the Barney kind. "Hmmmm, yes, you're correct," he said, "more lemon would be a definite improvement. Everything goes better with lemon, they say."
No sooner had the distinguished gentleman said "say" that ...