Only I fear I must make you pay for the material--not a farthing more than it costs me at the saw-mills, up at the Grange, for the carriage 'll come in with other lots I _must_ have." "It's a generous offer, Spelman," said the doctor, "and I accept it heartily, though you are turning the tables of obligation upon me.
You'll have done far more for me than I ever did for you." "I wish that were like to be true, sir, but it isn't.

My wife's not a giantess yet, for all you've done for her." Spelman set to work at once.

New joists were inserted in the old walls, boarded over, and covered, after the advice of Mortimer, with some cunning mixture to keep out the water.

Then a pipe was put through the wall to carry it off--which pipe, if it was not masked with an awful head, as the remains of more than one on the Priory showed it would have been in the days of the monks, yet did it work as faithfully without it.
When it came to the plastering of the walls, Mr Spelman, after giving them full directions, left the two boys to do that between them.
Although there was no occasion to roughen these walls by clearing away the old mortar from between the stones, the weather having done that quite sufficiently, and all the preparation they wanted for the first thin coat was to be well washed down, it took them a good many days, working all their time, to lay on the orthodox three coats of plaster.
Mr Spelman had wisely boarded the ceiling, so that they had not to plaster that.
Meantime he was preparing a door and window-frames in the shop.

The room had probably been one of the prior's, for it was much too large and lofty for a mere cell, and had two windows.