’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You must be got rid of, that is seen. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. “You know,” he went on, “this doesn’t seem to me to end anything. . "Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. These persons were Mr.
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