” “There’s art,” said Ann Veronica, “and writing. ” “I haven’t told any one the amount,” he went on. “You were never born,” he declared, “to follow the well worn roads. If you do not find your aunt, my people will take you under wing until you can stand on your own. 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.
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