She softened her tone and scrambled for the right words. If I'd not gone mad, they would have hanged me. From the freshness of the stains, which grew more frequent as they approached the adjoining chamber, it was evident some violence had been recently perpetrated, and the carpenter's own blood froze within his veins as he thought, with a thrill of horror, that, perhaps on this very spot, not many minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have been inhumanly butchered. Infested by every description of vagabond and miscreant, it was, perhaps, a few degrees worse than the rookery near Saint Giles's and the desperate neighbourhood of Saffron Hill in our own time. He handed Ruth a letter. And probably the girl would wear herself out, too. . News was sent back home, and in October, Marina traveled to Florence to live with her daughter again.
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