Kneebone and Mr. 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. The charm of innocence breathes around her, as fragrance is diffused by the flower, sanctifying her lightest thought and action, and shielding her, like a spell, from the approach of evil. He laughed lightly. Finally she fell into reflection. She traced him by his scent. They were the only real marriages she had seen clearly. “I had those beautiful roses from you on my first night, and a tiny little note but no address. "You want him?" "Please!" said Ruth. “Oh, I can’t thank you. He shivered and looked behind as he stepped into his hansom. The ring's yours, and you're mine. How do you like the story?” “Go on,” said Ann Veronica, a little hoarsely, “tell me all of it.
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