In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. 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. " "Pray cease this nonsense," said Winifred, "and quit the room, or I will call for assistance. " "Anything, my dear," replied Wood, "What is it?" "Bury us together in one grave in Willesden churchyard.
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