owed

“But,” cried Dantès, “it was a hundred and forty francs I owed Caderousse.”

Her mother’s ungraciousness made the sense of what they owed him more painful to Elizabeth’s mind; and she would, at times, have given anything to be privileged to tell him, that his kindness was neither unknown nor unfelt by the whole of the family.

But she always checked the thought reproachfully, remembering what she owed to Marilla.

Besides, I owed you a little mystification, Lestrade, for your chaff in the morning.”