"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."

By the time Rofflash was at the bridge the obstructing waggon had been
got out of the way. Dorrimore's coach was drawn to one side and
Dorrimore himself was striding impatiently up and down, occasionally
refreshing himself with a pinch of snuff and indulging in oaths more or