A Daughter of Delilah — page 155: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

146 “THE NOTES WERE MADE BY ME!” The bogus nobleman smiled, but there were anxious lines about his mouth. ‘‘Another twenty-four hours should see the business in New York at an end,’’ he muttered. ‘If I were suspected what would be easier than a cable to Australia? I will see Isabel at once. She can squeeze twenty thousand out of Alston, and then we sha’n't be so badly off after all. I am pretty safe, I think, for Roseberry dare not stir with the fear of the State prison of Frankfort before him.’’ A savage smile distorted his face, and he continued: “Oh! how I love her, and he alone stands between us! Another week and we will be on the high seas, and as for him, he dies!”’ The cab stopped at Isabel’s residence, and here St. Leonards dismissed it. Running lightly up stairs, he was admitted into the siren’s presence by a prearranged signal. ‘Where is Gilbert?’’ he demanded. ‘‘ All this is to be fair and above-board. No secrets. We sink or swim together!”’ ‘‘T am here,’’ announced the deep voice of Roseberry, as he parted the rich velvet curtains which divided the two rooms. He drew a chair near to the divan upon which the lovely Isabel was reclining, attired ina morning gown of pale pink silk—a gift of Edgar Alston. ’ ‘Who talks of sinking?’’ the siren said, a little con- temptuously. ‘‘You have discounted the notes, Mitford?” “Yes. ’’ The false St. Leonards drew from the breast-pocket of his coat a huge wad of bills, and tossed them into Isabel’s lap, saying: Gomichbooks. co