” “So it would have been at the English Embassy,” Courtlaw answered, “but the place to which you went was not the English Embassy. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. She had called the police on them anonymously. 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. The Procession to Tyburn. . Then her eyes flashed.
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