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. “What the devil are you doing star-gazing here?” Ennison looked at him in surprise. It had been part of her wedding trousseau, a gift from her family to his. But then the features changed. Mr.
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