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. Then she sang. "You are my prisoner, Jack. The arrival of the cart at the end of Field Lane, appeared the signal for an attempt at rescue. He was tall and straight, and his expression was good. I had no idea even that she was a friend of yours. Little by little, she stopped hating him. The audience was made up of parents, teachers, and a few other curious folks from town, all sitting hushed in anticipatory silence as the school orchestra assembled onstage. Still, thereafter she had avoided Morgan's; partly out of fear and partly because of her father's mandate.
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