He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. He took some Oreos from the bottomless supply that stocked the cookie jar. Her whole conduct and tone had been modest and ladylike. He did not write this with lead but with his heart's blood. Terrific shouts were raised by the rabble, who threatened to tear Wild in pieces if he showed himself. When you've seized him, cough thrice thus,—and two rough-looking gentlemen will make their appearance.
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