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. Ann Veronica was lying on her bed in a darkling room staring at the ceiling. She had money of her own—much more than I have—and there was no need to squabble about that. . They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. Ann Veronica paused before she answered. It's my way when I'm ruffled. Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. Stay where you are, Mr. Then pain entered their depths.
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