Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. . ’ ‘Don’t be too sure,’ said Miss Froxfield darkly, with a mischievous glance at her betrothed. "I suspect our friend has thought better of it, and won't come," he remarked.
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