She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. Nothing. The cook tried to ply her with spiced meat and fish soup. She woke up choking and belching water. 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. " "Of what am I accused?" asked Thames, who though a good deal alarmed at first, had now regained his courage.
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