She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. Keep a sharp look out, Austin, and see that we lose no one else. On taxing his recollection, the whole circumstance rushed to mind with painful distinctness. "Don't leave him, if you're at all fearful, my dear," replied Wood, receiving the little burthen with a laugh. " "Nor any one else in his senses," rejoined Wood, with a laugh. “Eight pounds,” she plunged, and added foolishly, “fifteen pounds will see me clear of everything. “I’ve been looking out for you,” he said.
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