" "So do I!" she cried; "for then you would have been really my brother. 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. " "What proof have you that I am?"—was the return bolt. Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. “I do not wish to use this. Had he been trying to get her attention before that day, or did he simply want his silly pencil returned? \"I'm John.
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