Can I have change of a wistful glance in pennies and tuppences, please.

Daft things, memories. I'm not at all sure about the new ones they've put into my old noggin. I much preferred some of the old ones which, I am told, were far too damaged in the operation to be repaired. The funny thing is, I still recall some of the apparently excised memories, which fact makes old Nyfenfork lean forward interestedly on his shooting stick (that is why the floors in here are made of cork) but the look in his eye makes me feign befuddlement- too late!- as he reaches anew for that tool of his which is surely too large to be classified as a mere scalpel.