The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. “And yet,” he said, “you bid me talk cheerfully, or not at all. 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. "What's the matter, lad, after all the wonderful fireworks at lunch?" Spurlock beheld McClintock standing beside him.
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