C. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool. Take it, if I die. There was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops. She seized the key, and he grasped her hand and squeezed it roughly and painfully between the handle and the ward as she tried to turn it. I would like you to believe that the decision I have arrived at—to stay away—is wholly and entirely to save you pain.
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