The highwayman never
grumbled at whatever commission she chose to take and the arrangement
was to their mutual advantage.
Sally took the pearls and stroked their smooth surfaces lovingly.
"It's a shame to part with 'em."
"Aye, they'd look brave on your neck, sweetheart."
"No. I'm as loth to travel to Tyburn as you. Every fine woman of quality
knows the Wendover pearls. I'd be marked at the first ridotto or
masquerade I showed my face in. I'll do my best to turn 'em into money."
"You're a jewel yourself, Sally. That's all I want. Adieu, mistress, and
good luck go with you."
Rofflash swaggered out and as he made his way to the bridge he pondered
deeply over the mystery of woman. Here was Sally Salisbury, a "flaunting
extravagant quean," always over head and ears in debt, refusing a chance
to put money in her purse just because she had a fancy for a man who
maybe was as poor as a church mouse. Yet, as regarded men generally,
Sally was a daughter of the horseleech!
"Humph," muttered Rofflash, "so much the better. The end on't is I
pocket Dorrimore's gold and no sharing out. If Sally likes to be a fool
'tis her affair and not mine. I've only got to keep my eye on her. What
a woman like her wants she'll get, even if it costs her her life. Sooner
or later, madam, you'll find your way to the fellow's lodgings, and
it'll go hard if I'm not on the spot too.
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