It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. ’ ‘Eh? Why did you not say so, man?’ demanded Hilary crossly. "What are you waiting for?" asked Jack, impatiently. "Nothing—nothing," she answered, bursting into tears. don’t have time. "I expect a very extraordinary person to supper, Rachel," he remarked. 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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