She had found that proof. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. "Of yourself," he replied, in a mournful tone. She knew that the next time he caught her she would not be able to free herself. “Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her Maker about her place in the world. Well-balanced, sane, wasn’t I? You never heard anyone call me a madman? I’m pretty near being one now, and it’s her fault. In doing so, he had to clamber up the immense heap of bricks and rubbish which now littered the floor, amounting almost to a car-load, and reaching up nearly to the top of the chimney-piece. I had to sell out, you see, when my father died, for the estate is in my hands. Lucy wore it every day from then on.
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