There it was in the bottom of her trunk, in the canvas sack, the chamois-skin bag, and the little brass match-safe.

Not a day passed that Trina did not have it out where she could see and touch it.

One evening she had even spread all the gold pieces between the sheets, and had then gone to bed, stripping herself, and had slept all night upon the money, taking a strange and ecstatic pleasure in the touch of the smooth flat pieces the length of her entire body.
One night, some three months after she had come to live at the kindergarten, Trina was awakened by a sharp tap on the pane of the window.

She sat up quickly in bed, her heart beating thickly, her eyes rolling wildly in the direction of her trunk.

The tap was repeated.
Trina rose and went fearfully to the window.