Annabel is my only sister, you know, almost my only relative. “Homely?” “Well, yeah, that’s what he said. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in 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. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. Perhaps it was just as well there was no inherited memory. ‘Desist, you little devil,’ he growled in her ear. " "Do you call ten guineas easy terms?" cried Wood, with a look of dismay. " The woollen-draper replied by gallantly handing her the box, which was instantly snatched from her by Blueskin, who, after helping himself to as much of its contents as he could conveniently squeeze between his thumb and finger, put it very coolly in his pocket.
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