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. Kneebone made no effort to check the unreasonable merriment of his companions, but rather seemed to encourage it. It did seem germane to the matter that so many of the people “in the van” were plain people, or faded people, or tired-looking people. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. “I shall send for a policeman,” Anna said, “directly my maid answers the bell— unless you choose to go before. She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat.
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