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. " "As like as life, Sir," observed Austin, peeping over Thornhill's shoulder at the portrait. She felt a little ashamed of herself, a bit of a hypocrite. It rained slightly, and a thick mist gathered in the air, and obscured the beautiful prospect.
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