He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. It was a haunted place. “Well, you have thought it over?” he said, sitting down beside her. ‘I do not know of whom you speak. Why can’t you let it be?’ Gerald grinned at him.
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