Wood had prevented him from paying much attention to the previous scene. From McClintock's came an infernal tinkletinkle, tump-tump! There was no composing with such a sound hammering upon the ear. Dieu du ciel, what was it? She turned slowly, listening for the direction of the sound. She said it audibly, having learned long since that an audible prayer was a concentrated one. He depended upon her, for his medicine, for his drink, for the little amusement it was now permissible to give him.
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