Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. Her heavy pistol came up again, although she did not rise. 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. “What a hideous repertoire! If you are in earnest about wanting to earn money, why on earth don’t you accept an engagement here?” “An engagement?” she queried. Was the situation so desperate that he could not pack his best things? She had packed lightly, not wanting to weigh down the carriage they would travel in. ‘Don’t concern yourself, Hilary. "Come down stairs directly, and let your mother look at your wrist. If Winifred remained silent, her looks would have disarmed a person of less assurance than the woollen-draper. She’s very special. She drew a chair to the window and stared at the splendour of the tropical night.
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