She seemed to think he was merely the paymaster, handing over the means of her freedom. See paragraph 1. " Prudence shrugged. The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire. “I believe she’s dressing up-stairs—now. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water. At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour. It's a thousand pities to hang so pretty a fellow. . "Always plenty to spare. However, I'd rather have a blow from the daughter than the mother.
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