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. “One has to live and learn,” she remarked, with a passable imitation of her father’s manner. "And I want to thank you, too," supplemented Ruth.
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