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. It was wonderful to think this thing had lived, had felt and suffered. She was perhaps as near tears as ever before in her life. ‘That’s not much comfort.
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