” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. "I wouldn't force him for the world: but if he don't tip the stivers, may I be cursed if he don't get a taste of the aqua pompaginis. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. Wood, terrified by the wildness of her looks. "May come!—it will come!—it shall come!" cried the carpenter, shaking his hand menacingly at him.
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