"Much that I would willingly forget. Then he hovered undecidedly for some seconds with his hands in his pockets and his mouth puckered to a whistle before he turned to go home by the Avenue. CHAPTER XXI. . He turned in at the club. 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. . It isn’t all. Besides, I would tear out my tongue rather than let it speak her mother's infamy.
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