Gerald kicked the panelled wall in frustration. F. 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. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. She cried and sobbed in fits. In one of the big gates was a little door, and she rapped at this. "If you touch me I will kill you," said Ruth, grasping the scissors which lay beside the pencils—Hoddy's! The Wastrel laughed, still advancing. She would write to Gerald. “Our marriage must be annulled.
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