“Yes, a paltry five hundred dollars, and the promise of more,” replied Dick.
“Greer dare not go back on you. Brodie will soon make him come to terms,” remarked Sophie.
“Yes, but Brodie is in jail, worse luck,” said Denton.
“You are in error. Skip got away yesterday; so the morning paper states.”
“Now, things will work smoothly, or I’ll eat my head,” said Denton, joyfully. “I must go downstairs and tell that to Mackrell and Moses. I suppose the old gent won’t wake up for an hour or two?”
“I will call you if he does.”
Sophie was left alone with the banker.
She bent over him, until her face was close to his, and she could count every wrinkle in his pale face, had she so desired.
There was not a spark of pity in her breast for him.
Instead, she was exultant.