"Stop thief!" roared Jonathan. “Um, he took me to the Big Apple. Ramage!” she began, and his mouth sealed hers and his breath was mixed with her breath. 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.
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