"I never wear false whiskers," went on O'Higgins. The boy had all kinds of opportunity; but it's the old story of father making it too easy. It had been Ann Veronica’s lot as the youngest child to live in a home that became less animated and various as she grew up. He was confined in the Middle Stone Ward, a spacious apartment, with good light and air, situated over the gateway on the western side, and allotted to him, not for his own convenience, but for that of the keepers, who, if he had been placed in a gloomier or more incommodious dungeon, would have necessarily had to share it with him.
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