“There’s some money in the drawer of that little table,” he said, pointing with his hand, which trembled a little. “It’s open—just get what there is and bring it here, will you?”
Katharine rose.
“I don’t want any money, if you mean to give it to me,” she said, as she crossed the room.
She brought him a roll of bills.
“Count it,” he said.
She counted carefully, turning back the crisp green notes over her delicate fingers. It was new money.
“There are three hundred and fifty dollars,” she said. “At least, I think I’ve counted right.”
“Near enough. Make a note of it, my dear. There are pencil and paper on the table. There—just write down the figure. Now put the money into your pocket, and go and spend it on some trifle.”
“I’d rather not,” answered Katharine, hesitating.
She had never had so much money in her hand in her whole life, though she was the grand-niece of Robert the Rich.