" She opened the book which she had brought to the table. Pause. " "You'd better take care of your mother's son instead," rejoined Blueskin. 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. Them young prigs is all alike. “You told me that your name was Meysey Hill.
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