"I told you that before," rejoined Wood, testily. " "I ought to add," continued Winifred, "that one of her shoes was picked up in the garden, and that prints of her feet were discovered along the soft mould; whether made in flying from any one, or from rushing forth in distracted terror, it is impossible to say. She had never expected John capable of saying such things, of thinking such macabre ideas. He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features. It is very bad. It depresses one, you know. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. " "I understand," replied Thames; "be it as you will.
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