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. . ‘Because you are a bête, and a pig, and imbecile. The lad had just barely jangled it, when hurrying footsteps could be heard inside. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred. He turned me so that he could have a companion in his loneliness. In a sense it alters nothing. His brute strength surged through her veins, she could feel his energy in her heart, his life force stolen like candy from a baby.
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