‘“Give us that, Déagol, my love,” said Sméagol, over his friend’s shoulder. ‘“Why?” said Déagol. ‘“Because it’s my birthday, my love, and I wants it,” said Sméagol. ‘“I don’t care,” said Déagol. “I have given you a present already, more than I could afford. I found this, and I’m going to keep it.” ‘“Oh, are you indeed, my love,” said Sméagol; and he caught Déagol by the throat and strangled him, because the gold looked so bright and beautiful. Then he put the ring on his finger.
