A. Come. 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. The door opened. After a while one began to talk. Stanley, in his effort to seem at ease, took entire possession of the hearthrug. . Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. She despises me, I suppose. Below was an uninspiring street, a thoroughfare of boarding-houses and apartments. She knew that babies came from the womb; her womb had fallen out with her baby.
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