I cut off her limbs so that she would not escape. Why? Because Howard Spurlock the author dared not risk the liberty of Howard Spurlock the malefactor; because there were still some dregs in this cup of irony. ’ Melusine sighed in a satisfied way. “I killed him. ” “You mean—you think——” “Hush! I think that he was concealed in my room, and Annabel and he met there. He did not write this with lead but with his heart's blood. 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. Afterwards she hunted up the article in question, and it seemed to her quite delightfully written and argued.
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