Wild," said Sheppard. Sir Rowland, who had continued absorbed in thought, with his eyes fixed upon the sloop, as she made her way slowly down the river, disembarked more leisurely. She galloped up the small stairs, hearing that Shari had finally risen. To-morrow, we'll go to the Fleet and get spliced. Her eyelids fluttered with recognition, and she cried out softly. One cannot trust any man at all. Beyond the steps was a pole-chair in readiness. 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.
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