“Have you killed recently?” He was curious, scared. “I’m thirsty. 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. Clotilde announced that she would not be back and she was taking Fritz and Anna forever. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life.
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