“You’ve no right to badger me like this, Veronica,” he said. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned. That’s the wonder of it. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared. What a fool I was to separate the two in my mind. 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. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. Men had tried to kiss her— unshaven derelicts, some of them terrible—but she had always managed to escape. "Let me go," cried Winifred. She had come to despise those who were fertile out of pure jealousy, but could not admit it to herself.
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