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. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. Wait!" He released himself from his aunt's embrace, ran to the trunk and fetched the old coat. \"Mom! You’re home early!” Michelle exclaimed.
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