IX. Her finger-nails dug into her flesh. " "Then the sooner I'm off the better," cried Wood; "what's to pay, David?" "Don't affront me, Owen, by asking such a question," returned the landlord; "hadn't you better stop and finish the bottle?" "Not a drop more," replied Wood. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. He remembered it suddenly.
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