Wood," cried David, pouring out a glass of the spirit, and offering it to the carpenter, "that'll warm the cockles of your heart. Her head ached with a hollow pain. He pushed her to his bed, little more than a cot, and pulled off her clothes. ‘Come along. Wood," urged Jack. ‘You don’t favour her, bar the black hair. She lied. After all a thousand pounds is a trifle to rid you of an upstart, who may chance to deprive you of tens of thousands. ’ A twinkle crept into Mrs Sindlesham’s eye. " CHAPTER XIV.
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