Jack in all probability, would have escaped, if Langley, who was left in the Lodge, had not been alarmed at the noise and rushed thither. “Quite on my own,” she said. The room was intimate and wonderful to her with its shadows now cast over the girlish menagerie of stuffed animals. Piano wire, stained with black rust from the horrible deeds she had committed. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood.
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