"This gash," he added, pointing to one of the larger scars, "was a wipe from the hanger of Tom Thurland, whom I apprehended for the murder of Mrs. " While he was thus musing, he fancied he heard the lock tried. Mrs. Her first impulse was to fly to the window; and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the ladder from without. He seemed to deliberate. But really it is much more than that. The comparisons upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction. He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. You will forgive my remarking, Anna, that I consider there is a great change in your manner towards me and your general deportment since our marriage.
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