An acute sense of living was in her veins, even the taste of her wine seemed magical. Even if you didn’t know it. 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. “Don’t you have a wife? Where are your children?” She asked. “That,” she answered, “is far easier to believe. We have a very nice set of young people here too just at present, and you would soon make some friends.
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