In this cell was a huntsman, who had fractured his skull while hunting, and was perpetually hallooing after the hounds;—in that, the most melancholy of all, the grinning gibbering lunatic, the realization of "moody madness, laughing wild. But her great-aunt was nodding, as if this was what she had expected. She uncrossed her legs and lowered herself, carefully and slowly, until she lay supine. Why in heaven’s name didn’t I think of that before?’ ‘What are you talking of?’ ‘Never mind that now.
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