” She rested the firing end of the cannon against her own temple. 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. But before the Grieg concerto was done, she knew that she was free. He was an imaginative young man. A pane of glass was shivered by each stone.
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