His lovely black eyes softened until they became like languid as the night sky. 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. How much Mary knew is a mystery. My politics in that matter wouldn’t be to give women votes. A wife formed part of his scheme of life, for several years he had been secretly but assiduously looking for her.
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