But if he's in bed, how the devil is he going with me, supposing I decide to hire him? The mudhook comes up to-morrow night. The one through which she had come and Gosse had entered behind her. 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. Her steps slowed. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy.
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