Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. “Come,” he said, “you can’t be meaning to bury yourself. “By-the-bye,” he said, presently, “your sister was married to old Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t she? I saw the notice in the papers. Things that you and the nuns would not think about for—’ She stopped, biting back the words “for a young girl”. Drawing a pistol, and unclosing his lantern with the quickness of thought, he then burst through an open trap-door into a small loft. I'm not hungry. “I must take them,” she said, to help herself over her own incredulity.
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