" "Of course," rejoined Quilt, maliciously; "every thief is so. We two just love each other—the real, identical other—all the time. On the groundfloor the shutters were closed, or, to speak more correctly, altogether nailed up, and presented a very singular appearance, being patched all over with the soles of old shoes, rusty hobnails, and bits of iron hoops, the ingenious device of the former occupant of the apartment, Paul Groves, the cobbler, to whom we have before alluded. Then blackness. “Of course he may merely have been telling her who we were, but I think it improbable. For hours after she had not been sensible to life, only to exquisite echoes. So I ran away, blindly, knowing nothing of the world outside. ” Anna sprang up.
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