At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade. ‘I ain’t done nothing wrong, I swear 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. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. To shore up a business that never had any foundation, he wanted me to lend him a hundred thousand; and for his sake as well as for mine I had to refuse. We felt like thieves. " "You see, we didn't know but you might die; and so we had to search your belongings for the address of your people. Glad to get back, I’m sure,” he said briskly. This is simply a chapter of coincidences. “You have dyed your hair and darkened your eyebrows.
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