"Look!" whispers the lodger, pointing his friend's attention to these objects with a trembling finger. "I told you so. When I saw him last, he took his cap off, took out the little bundle of old letters, hung his cap on the back of the chair--his coat was there already, for he had pulled that off before he went to put the shutters up--and I left him turning the letters over in his hand, standing just where that crumbled black thing is upon the floor."
Is he hanging somewhere? They look up. No.

"Look!" whispers the lodger, pointing at these objects with a trembling finger. "I told you so. When I saw him last, he took his cap off, took out the bundle of old letters, hung his cap on the back of the chair with his coat - and I left him turning the letters over in his hand, standing just where that crumbled black thing is upon the floor."
Is he hanging somewhere? They look up. No.
