Sixteen thousand! Mark me, young man, you'll pay it back through the nose, every dollar of it!" "I owe you nothing. What of madame, his wife?’ ‘You know more of her than me,’ the girl said with a look of scorn. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. ‘Wait for me. " "My dear," observed Wood, "you should be more charitable—" "Charitable!" repeated his wife, "that's your constant cry. “Where have you been? All these hours I have been calling for you. ” He spoke loudly.
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