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. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. Stanley’s pace slackened. . The door to the room in question was closed.
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