"My head fairly turns round. “Mr. He had now reached the adjoining house, and, scaling the roof, approached another building, which seemed to be, at least, one story loftier than its neighbours. “What you have said is a ridiculous falsehood,” she declared scornfully. Fancy, as they say hereabouts!" What had aroused this open-air monologue was a small tin sign in a window. They were inscribed with the name RIMBAUER, EMILIO J. . . Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. They then entered the room, which was perfectly dark. The hansom drove off.
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