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Having seen him heavily ironed, and placed in the Condemned Hold, Jonathan recrossed the street. After all, life had still its pulsations. 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. “I hope you have not come for that. " Ruth's eyes began to glow. Sister’s got married to that bounder Ferringhall.
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