In the bitter days of her gypsy life she had known the sensation he so artfully simulated.

Overcome by his heartbroken tone, but not entirely divested of suspicion, she said: "Dig under the tree near the roots, and you'll find lots; but mind you don't tell," for Mliss had HER hoards as well as the rats and squirrels.
But the master, of course, was unable to find them; the effects of hunger probably blinding his senses.

Mliss grew uneasy.

At length she peered at him through the leaves in an elfish way, and questioned: "If I come down and give you some, you'll promise you won't touch me ?" The master promised.
"Hope you'll die if you do!" The master accepted instant dissolution as a forfeit.

Mliss slid down the tree.