” She made some inane response. ‘For once, you’re talking like a sensible man. The sergeant had not seen it for he understood nothing of what she told him. 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. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves. Every inch of the house felt safe to her, small and welcoming.
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