By the side of her plate was a small key. On the groundfloor the shutters were closed, or, to speak more correctly, altogether nailed up, and presented a very singular appearance, being patched all over with the soles of old shoes, rusty hobnails, and bits of iron hoops, the ingenious device of the former occupant of the apartment, Paul Groves, the cobbler, to whom we have before alluded. “Have you heard things?” The tears stood in her eyes. She perceived she had never really thought of any one but herself in all her acts and plans. ” “I am going to pack my bag,” Anna answered.
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