Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. “Annabel at last,” he shouted. Groping their way through one or two dark and mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of steps, which brought them to the hall. . "How goes it?" he began, heartily. "Oh God! she is dying," exclaimed Jack in a voice suffocated by emotion. ” “All right. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. She leaves me almost without comparisons.
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