He would ask her to come to dinner with him in some little Italian or semiBohemian restaurant in the district toward Soho, or in one of the more stylish and magnificent establishments about Piccadilly Circus, and for the most part she did not care to refuse. "Why you wouldn't stand in the way of his good fortune surely? I'll be a second father to him, I tell you. ’ She fairly pushed at Gerald, who grinned and gave in, moving back to the still open door. Oriental rugs adorned the sea of shiny hardwood floors, kept polished with an eye for detail that bordered on Japanese. Sometimes—a lonely forlorn child—she had gone to him and put her arms around his neck. She felt a storm of emotion surging up within her. Who walked you home?\" Mike asked her, his voice tinged with jealousy, as she passed the garlic bread. "I'm glad to find I'm right. Again he rushed.
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