His eyebrows arched, knotting in the middle. ” “All right. . “You will come back, won’t you?” He nodded cheerfully. After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night. 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. But also this must not go on.
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