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. ‘Why have you come in here?’ demanded Melusine, turning on him. Ramage seemed always fencing about the forbidden topic, probing for openings, and she wondered why she did not give him them. Nobody will ever know what the fleas thought.
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