He returned, blue towel in hand. “I wonder if there are any good women really. He then stamped upon the hand on the lower bannister, until that also relaxed its gripe. From the freshness of the stains, which grew more frequent as they approached the adjoining chamber, it was evident some violence had been recently perpetrated, and the carpenter's own blood froze within his veins as he thought, with a thrill of horror, that, perhaps on this very spot, not many minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have been inhumanly butchered. Agreeably he helped her take the shirt off. ’ ‘Oh, a ruin,’ exclaimed Mrs Sindlesham, throwing up a hand.
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