"What shall we do, Poll?" hesitated Edgeworth Bess. " "Is this true, Sir?" cried Mrs. 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. This did not affect Spurlock. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. Ann Veronica felt no repulsion at the prospect. Give me your staff. It’s awkward, but we’ll get round it somehow.
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