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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"Beyond the City"

Here was the
guileless person who was not a professional moneylender, but who would
be glad to correspond, etc. Here too was the accommodating individual
who advanced sums from ten to ten thousand pounds without expense,
security, or delay. "The money actually paid over within a few hours,"
ran this fascinating advertisement, conjuring up a vision of swift
messengers rushing with bags of gold to the aid of the poor struggler.
A third gentleman did all business by personal application, advanced
money on anything or nothing; the lightest and airiest promise was
enough to content him according to his circular, and finally he never
asked for more than five per cent. This struck the Admiral as far the
most promising, and his wrinkles relaxed, and his frown softened away as
he gazed at it. He folded up the paper rose from the seat, and found
himself face to face with Charles Westmacott.
"Hullo, Admiral!"
"Hullo, Westmacott!" Charles had always been a favorite of the seaman's.
"What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I have been doing a little business for my aunt. But I have never
seen you in London before."
"I hate the place. It smothers me. There's not a breath of clean air
on this side of Greenwich.


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