” Anna shook her head. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. She listened, listened intently for several minutes. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. He took her hands firmly in his and raised them to his lips. But I shan’t try to stop you. ‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. ‘I thought you said you take housebreaking very seriously.
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