Fancying they were alone, Sir Rowland threw aside his cloak, and produced a heavy bag of money, which he flung upon the table; and, when Wild had feasted his greedy eyes sufficiently upon its golden contents, he handed him a pocketbook filled with notes. If it wasn’t for the fear that after all—but we won’t think of that. Of course he hadn't played the game wisely. And now," she added, glancing contemptuously at the woollen-draper, "I'll go to Jack Sheppard. The pursuit of pleasure, selfgratification, is an original instinct with her. And here's the proof. “You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted. ’ ‘Is it, now? Well you won’t, then, for he won’t hear nothing, missie.
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