“What you have said is a ridiculous falsehood,” she declared scornfully. Here again instinct guided her. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. If only out of loyalty to co-education one has to do that. A nod was exchanged. 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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