"No, I won't hear you, murderer," rejoined Wood. He groped her buttocks. ” “Don’t tempt me,” she said, laughing, and drawing her opera-cloak together. He loaded the launch with a thousand pounds—all she could carry—and started home immediately after sundown; but even then he lost from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds before he had the stuff cached in McClintock's bamboo-covered sawdust pit. I know that in my heart I would take whatever he gave. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all.
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