“I suppose, Mr. Lights gleamed from the lower rooms, and, on a nearer approach to the building, the sound of revelry might be heard from within. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. I’ve seen him, and he doesn’t a bit understand. The doors were closed and barricaded, and the mob threatened to burst them open if Jack was not delivered to them. He heard the struggle on the landing, the fall of the heavy body, the groan,—and excited almost to frenzy by his fears, he succeeded in forcing open the door. Tell the whole truth. As far as I recollect, there were two.
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