“Ada,” said Gray, “look around you.”
Ada did so, and Gray continued,—
“This is a place of discomfort; there is little to recommend it, but it is preferable to yon gloomy dungeon from whence you have but now emerged.”
“I grant it,” said Ada.
“Your secret existence here is necessary for me; nay, my very life depends upon it. It may be but for a very short time. You may imagine that I am not in love with this mode of life. I have gold—store of gold—but I want more, and each day shall add to the glittering mass. When it has reached the amount I wish, you shall be free.”
“Free?”
“Yes; free as air.”
“When you have the gold you wish?”
“Even so, Ada.”
“I have read that the love of gold is one of those passions that increase as they are fed.”