When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. Was there no echo anywhere in Miss Stanley’s pacified brain? Those empty rooms, if they were empty, were the equivalents of astoundingly decorated predecessors. The walls were bare, and painted in stone-colour; the floors, devoid of carpet; the beds, of hangings; the windows, of blinds; and, excepting in the thief-taker's own audience-chamber, there was not a chair or a table about the premises; the place of these conveniences being elsewhere supplied by benches, and deal-boards laid across joint-stools. The other was to go into business—into a photographer’s reception-room, for example, or a costumer’s or hat-shop. I do swear. Wood was not particularly fortunate in his own matrimonial connections. "With your friends, dear Mrs. Better get back now! You be careful. ” She admonished. ‘Unless he is himself a man of substance. Would she ever find it? Sighing, she opened the door to the next room, and drew back the drapes.
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