The Well Hole 336 XIII. What is it you’re after? Money, I suppose. "The ceiling is breaking! the floor is opening! he is coming to me!" cried the unhappy woman. Wood's daughter,—to whom, I've heard tell, he was attached years ago,—was brought up, his courage forsook him altogether, and he trembled, and could scarcely stand. In between naps she increasingly found herself gazing at him, his large nose, his eyes circled in silvery plum shadows, his thin lips parted as he slept baring a rim of perfect teeth.
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