‘Well?’ she said. Certainly, we—that is Jarvis and I— knew nothing of it until after Mary’s death. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping. 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. He knew that tragedy was as blind as justice, that it struck the child and the grown-up impartially. While the carpenter irresolutely quitted the room, with a strong presentiment of ill upon his mind, a light quick step was heard descending the stairs, and before he could call out to prevent it, a man was admitted into the passage.
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