Or, again, she would draw the heap lovingly toward her and bury her face in it, delighted at the smell of it and the feel of the smooth, cool metal on her cheeks.

She even put the smaller gold pieces in her mouth, and jingled them there.

She loved her money with an intensity that she could hardly express.

She would plunge her small fingers into the pile with little murmurs of affection, her long, narrow eyes half closed and shining, her breath coming in long sighs.
"Ah, the dear money, the dear money," she would whisper.

"I love you so! All mine, every penny of it.