47 was no more than a sort of railway compartment on the way to that. I don’t understand the workings of a gentleman’s mind. "Hoity-toity! You owe me sixteen thousand dollars. Wood," said the lady bridling up, "my request may, perhaps, have some weight with you. 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.
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