Just sit down on that stool again and let’s talk of this in cold blood. I do not love any one. 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. He fell back upon the pillows with a little moan, clutching the slim white fingers fiercely. Ann Veronica had got quite interested in Mr. "Miss Enschede, you're seven kinds of a brick!" "A brick?" He chuckled.
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