A Daughter of Delilah — page 157: what you’re looking at

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

148 “THE NOTES WERE MADE BY ME!” For a few minutes no word was spoken, and while Palmer carefully placed his share of the money in his pocket-book, Isabel lovingly caressed the pile of bills in her lap. ‘‘Now what of young Alston?’’ Palmer at last demanded. ‘‘T have done with him,’’ smiled Isabel. ‘‘I shall see him no more. To-morrow we leave here, and the furniture must be disposed of to the highest bidder. Iam very sorry to part with all these lovely things, but they are of no fur- ther use tome. I must leave the disposal of them in your able hands, Mitford. As I have said before, my plans will not be formed until IT have met Mr. Jabez Alston. The young fool must be avoided at any cost. He is just at that age when revolvers come very awkwardly into play.’’ Her lip curled contemptuously. ‘‘T will see you both early to-morrow,’’ Palmer said, reaching for his gloves. ‘‘And if you have any influence over your wife, Roseberry, try and induce her to see the red lights ahead. ”’ The convict scowled, while Isabel flashed a mocking glance toward the false St. Leonards. “By the way,’ he added, ‘‘your friend Stimson will trouble you no more, Isabel; he is dead.’’ ‘“T have read an account of his murder,” she replied, coolly, “‘and the news was most agreeable. The only per- son I pity is the poor scene-painter. ”’ ‘‘And he has been no friend of yours of late,’? Palmer observed, significantly. ‘‘You have your own luck and the devil’s, too.’’ ‘“Yes, and I need a few of fortune’s favors,’’ she smiled serenely. ‘‘It is a long lane that has no turning, Mitford. Gomichbooks (Eo)