" "My God!" cried Trenchard, stunned by the intelligence, "I have killed her. On the groundfloor the shutters were closed, or, to speak more correctly, altogether nailed up, and presented a very singular appearance, being patched all over with the soles of old shoes, rusty hobnails, and bits of iron hoops, the ingenious device of the former occupant of the apartment, Paul Groves, the cobbler, to whom we have before alluded. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. "Drink this," cried Jonathan, handing her the cup. . "Release her instantly, villain!" Both Winifred and her suitor started at this sudden apparition.
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