In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. When the twins had first come to live in the 208 house, they were thin and bony, their tiny mouths crying for food. One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool. "Come! I see the storm has blown over," cried Winifred, brightening up. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins.
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