I’ve seen Brewis Charvill, by the by. . 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. A mate? A brother-lover to tromp about the world with? “I cannot. ‘Tell me about the convent? Were you happy there? They were kind to you, the nuns?’ ‘Oh, but yes. ” He walked from his door frame to stand nearer to her. So, very carefully, he raised her in his arms and carried her to her bed. He looked at her with a certain curiosity.
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