“Oh, it is you!” she said, after a moment. “What is your name?'
“Baker, Miss.”
The captive sat on the edge of the couch and for many minutes watched, through narrow eyes, the movements of the servant. A plan was growing in her brain, and she was contemplating the situation in a new and determined frame of mind.
“Baker,” she said, finally, “come here.” The maid stood before her, attentively.
“Would you like to earn a thousand pounds?”
Without the faintest show of emotion, the least symptom of eagerness, Baker answered in the affirmative.
“Then you have but to serve me as I command, and the money is yours.”
“I have already been instructed to serve you, Miss.”
“I don't mean for you to dress my hair and to fasten my gown and all that. Get me out of this place and to my friends. That is what I mean,” whispered Dorothy, eagerly.
“You want to buy me, Miss?' said Baker, calmly.