” He dabbed with his paper-weight again, and spoke in an entirely indifferent tone. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. You—It’s jolly of you to confide in me.
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