” “I wonder how he treated Gwen. Read it, and you'll find that your unfortunate uncle, Sir Rowland, surrenders to you all the estates in Lancashire. He carried her into his bedroom as she unfastened the tiny white buttons of his shirt. 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. I thought my sister and her murdered husband dragged me hither, to this very room, and commanded you to slay me. “I wanted to go to an art-student ball of which he disapproved.
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