Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. Her disapproval was obvious enough. An unhappy little sigh escaped her. She caught her breath, and her eyes were lit with a sudden terror. Without you I should never have recovered either health or reason. ” She agreed. 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. He occupied one of the smaller houses near the station. “Quite an unimportant one,” he assured her. A moment before, the surface of the stream was black as ink. " "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face.
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