She seemed bursting with the desire to talk, and watching for her opportunity. They left the castle that day for another, packing with them the leftovers of the troupe that followed them from place to place, never asking about the occasional disappearance of one of its unlucky members. “Eight pounds,” she plunged, and added foolishly, “fifteen pounds will see me clear of everything. Some excuse for this rapacity may perhaps be found in the fact, that five thousand pounds was paid for the purchase of the Press Yard by Mr. Wily little devil she is. When she was quite sure that he was gone she took her sister’s note from the mantelpiece and slowly broke the seal. Winifred pointed to the door.
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