”
“They were my posters,” Annabel said. ’
‘Oh, that tragic pair,’ uttered her ladyship in saddened tones. You will find the certificate in my pocket. I know faces. A single false
step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an
unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it. 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. “Now,” he said, quietly, “it’s time we stopped this nonsense. You are infatuated. ’
‘Will you indeed? Truly?’
His smile held so much tenderness, she was tempted to surrender at once. A
few short, dark locks, escaping from beneath her head-dress, showed that her
hair had been removed, and had only been recently allowed to grow again. Bulging out more in the
middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end,
—a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased
by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced,
like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance
from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. "Otherwise
you will not get your morning's sleep.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 29-06-2024 06:37:51