But Jack was too nimble for him. His absence was thought by the charitable to be from grief. From the freshness of the stains, which grew more frequent as they approached the adjoining chamber, it was evident some violence had been recently perpetrated, and the carpenter's own blood froze within his veins as he thought, with a thrill of horror, that, perhaps on this very spot, not many minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have been inhumanly butchered. “Ohmigod! You totally sounded like my grandmother just now!” Michelle exclaimed.
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