She rested her head upon his shoulder. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. “Read this, John. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. There was some justification for her annoyance, for negotiation of the secret passage demanded either a stout heart, or a desperate one. I'm going through his pockets. Was the young lady impatient for experience? Was she adventurous? As a man of the world he did not think it becoming to accept maidenly calm as anything more than a mask. ‘Do you know, Mademoiselle Charvill, you are a thought too clever for your own good. He looked at his friend.
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