. She could smell the sweet girl child he had buried in the garage in autumn, 1 even under the frozen ground. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. "Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause. ‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon.
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