I hope you won’t think less of me, you’ve treated me so well. 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. For a long time even the strong pipe tobacco (with which McClintock supplied him) possessed a coconut flavour. His looks were fixed on his old benefactor. “It is no good playing a game.
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