CHAPTER XVIII. ” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch. She grasped at the right one, massaging where his grip had been and Gerald hoped he had not bruised her. The next moment, a struggle was heard, and Blueskin appeared at the door, followed by Mrs. "Oh, lud! what's that?" exclaimed a female voice, from an adjoining room. During that period she has been a model of propriety. It’s to do with adolescence. 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. We dine at seven-thirty.
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