Ah, how desolate, how desolate....
A piece of paper was impaled upon the counter by means of a headless hatpin.

There was something very largely and badly written on it.

Sarah Brown read: "Well Soup it looks like my Night's come and what dyou think Sherry's come too.

Im an me as gone off to a place e knows that's a fine place for such a boy as Elbert to be born in so no more at present from your true Peony." Sarah Brown climbed up the short stairway, painful step by painful step, to her cell.

She sat on her bed holding her throbbing side, and breathing with fearful caution.