Anna held out her hand, and he paused. As he balanced the photograph, a humorous twinkle came into his eyes. "Go on. "Every inch of it," replied the woollen-draper. They had shared almost seventy five wonderful years there in nearly utter seclusion before it came time to move on. "What proof have you of the truth of this story?" inquired Trenchard. 1. Gentlemen! a glass of brandy will be no bad finish to our meal. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains.
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