Kneebone," observed Shotbolt, as he emptied his tenth tumbler; "I'm sure he's meditating an escape, and hopes to accomplish it to-night. “It really seems as if we shall have to put down marigolds altogether next year,” Aunt Molly repeated three times, “and do away with marguerites. Now he would take her away from the house before killing her, and no one would find her body at all. How perfectly charming. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. " "Zounds!" exclaimed Wood; "it's my old master-key.
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