" "I tell 'ee what, landlord," observed the old sailor, quietly replenishing his pipe from a huge pewter tobacco-box, as the waterman and Wood quitted the house, "you've said good-b'ye to your friend. There were perches inside where she could crouch and labyrinths underneath where she could hide. Part 7 That was two days before Christmas Eve. A tall, clean-shaven man came out and walked rapidly through the room, exchanging greetings right and left, but evidently anxious to avoid being detained. When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache. What was the alternative to going home? No alternative appeared in that darkness. He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. 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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