Seventeen hours, sixteen hours. Maybe half a year, counting this summer. The door to the room in question was closed. ” “Then you will really give it all up!” he exclaimed. "And now to see the end of it," said Jonathan, shortly afterwards passing through the window. 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.
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