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. “How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way. Altogether, it was a hideous and revolting sight. Dizziness overcame him like anesthetic and he slept. ‘As for you—’ ‘Do not address me. ‘I am nine-and-twenty,’ he answered. Sheppard!" sighed Winifred, as she contemplated the beautiful wreck before her,—"Poor Mrs. " "Confusion!" thundered Wild.
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