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. . I don’t mean I’m not a good woman—I mean that I’m not a GOOD woman. My profession has hardened me. He was consumed with desire. My goodness gracious. My poor Hoddy! I had to talk harshly, or break down and have hysterics. I was sure you could not have the heart to slay a child—an innocent child. ’ For my own part I go about loving.
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