She should leave sooner, but she just could not bear missing the event. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. " "When you please, Sir," said Thames, coldly. 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. Weeks hurled past, weeks that turned into months. ’ ‘Oh, don’t I? What do you have under all those petticoats, a holster?’ ‘But yes, and they are empty.
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