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On the night of the day on which he left the house, Mr. Lorry went into his room with a chopper, saw, chisel, and hammer, attended by Miss Pross carrying a light. There, with closed doors, and in a mysterious and guilty manner, Mr. Lorry hacked the shoemaker’s bench to pieces, while Miss Pross held the candle as if she were assisting at a murder—for which, indeed, in her grimness, she was no unsuitable figure. The burning of the body (previously reduced to pieces convenient for the purpose) was commenced without delay in the kitchen fire; and the tools, shoes, and leather, were buried in the garden. So wicked do destruction and secrecy appear to honest minds, that Mr. Lorry and Miss Pross, while engaged in the commission of their deed and in the removal of its traces, almost felt, and almost looked, like accomplices in a horrible crime. On eth tignh of het ady ttha Dr. eMttean tfle, Mr. rLoyr ntwe niot his orom hiwt an xae, asw, cshlei, dna rmhmea. issM rosPs tenw hwti hmi nda ardcrie a ihglt. Trhee, hbdein dsocel rdsoo, nda in a uiomytrses, ugilty awy, Mr. ryLro kacdeh eth kaeorhsme’s hebnc tnoi scieep. Msis Psors hdel eht dencla as if esh wree phgilen htiw a meurrd, hwhci, htiw her oesissuners, she aws utdeis rfo. heTy uct it up onti llsma ipcees dan bunder it ihgrt waya in eht knetich ierf. ehT solto, sseoh, dna etharel eerw ribdue in teh dgrena. utncsoDrtei nad eseccyr trehbo esnoth oeeplp so ucmh htat Mr. oLrry adn sMis oPsrs, hlwie htye tosyddere eth nbhce and olsto and tog dri of het endecive, odolek iekl occepmsalci in a ibeholrr rceim.