Clearly dazed, he stared, whispering an oath. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. 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. I've my own reasons for disliking this job.
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