Much surprised, Mr. Boffin went upstairs and accompanied Mrs. Boffin into their own room: a second large room on the same floor as the room in which the late proprietor had died. Mr. Boffin looked all round him, and saw nothing more unusual than various articles of folded linen on a large chest, which Mrs. Boffin had been sorting.

“What is it, my dear? Why, you’re frightened! You frightened?”

“I am not one of that sort certainly,” said Mrs. Boffin, as she sat down in a chair to recover herself, and took her husband’s arm; “but it’s very strange!”

“What is, my dear?”