"Ah!" exclaimed Wild, looking angrily towards his supposed attendant. From under his pillow he dragged forth the key to the trunk. Instinct had forced her to create something out of rags to satisfy a mysterious craving. “But was it wise to sing to-night?” “Why not? The man was nothing to me. If she returns to the house from which we took her, her companions will laugh at her and smother her with ridicule. After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone.
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