ce to the room in which it lay, and stood respectfully at the door while I went in alone. The sight I saw has never left me. Go where I will, I see ever before me that pure young face, with its weary look hushed in the repose of death. It haunts me, it accuses me. It asks me where is the noble womanhood that might have blossomed from this sweet bud, had it not been for my pusillanimity and love of life? But when I try to answer, I am stopped by that image of death, with its sealed lips and closed eyes never to open again — never, never, whatever my longing, my anguish, or my despair.
But the worst shock was to come yet. As I left the room and went stumbling down the Jeff Beukeboom Tröja stairs, I was Liverpool Dres Děti met by the officer and led again into the apartment I had first entered on the ground floor.
“There is some one here,” he began, “whom you may like to question.”
Thinking it to be the woman of the house, I advanced, though somewhat reluctantly, when a sight met my eyes that made me fall back in Maillot Feyenoord astonishment and dread. It was the figure of a woman dressed all in gray, with a dark-blue veil drawn tightly over her features.
“Good God!” I murmured, “who is this?”
“The woman who brought her here,” observed the officer. “Farrell, there, has just found her.”
And then I perceived darkly Maillot EURO 2016 looming in the now heavy dusk the form of another man, whose unconscious and business-like air proclaimed him to be a member of the force.
“Her name is Sophie Preston,” the officer continued, motioning to the woman to throw up Morgan Rielly Tröja her veil. “She is a hard character, and some day will have to answer for her many crimes.”
Meanwhile, I stood rooted Liverpool Dres Děti to the ground; the name, the face were strange, and neither that of her whom I had inwardly accused of this wrong.
“I should like to ask the woman —” I commenced, but here my eyes fell upon her form. It was Mike Gartner Tröjor tall and it was full, but it was not by any means handsome. A fearful possibility crossed Shea Weber Tröja my mind. Approaching the woman closely, I modified my question.
“Are you the person who took this young lady from her boarding place?” I asked.
“Yes, sir,” was the reply, uttered Jimmy Vesey Tröjor in smooth but by no means cultivated tones.
“And by what arts did you prevail upon this young and confiding creature to leave her comfortable home Maillot Schalke 04 and go out into the streets with you?”
She did not speak, she smiled. O heaven! what depths of depravity opened before me in that smile!
“Answer!” the officer cried.
“Well, sir, I Lucas Johansen Tröja told her,” she now replied, “that I was such and such a relative, grandmother, I think I said; and being a dutiful child —”
But I was now up close to her side, and, leaning to her very ear I interrupted her.
“Tell me on which side of the hall was the parlor into which you went.”
“The right,” she David Desharnais Tröja answered, without the least show of hesitation.
“Wrong,” I returned; “you have never been there.”
She looked frightened.
“O, sir,” she whispered, “hush! hush! If you know —” And there she stopped; alinks:
http://www13.plala.or.jp/white_roots/gwbbs/gwbbs.cgi
http://www.dwats.com/cgi-bin/index.cgi
http://www.travelan.net/cgi-bin/search.cgi |
