” John stopped by in his car to visit Lucy during the Beck’s Thanksgiving all-day dinner and football marathon. I am going up to dine with my sister. 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. Wild, Captain?" remonstrated the other, in a deferential tone. “If I sit here,” he said, standing up before her abruptly, “I shall have to shout. Side by side with the cheese (its never-failing accompaniment, in all seasons, at the carpenter's board) came a tankard of swig, and a toast. She drifted back into the welcoming arms of sleep, feeling herself surrounded in silk. He was now as civil as he had just been insolent. Martin’s eyes seemed about to pop out of his head.
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