" Mr. 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. As he stood upon the bridge, he held down the light, and looked into the profound abyss. The fireplace was at the other end, with the sheeted shapes of two sofas either side. Melusine flew after him, the sword held out before her and pointing directly at his retreating back. " CHAPTER XV. " "How do you manage that, Mr.
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