“There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed. Stanley, in his effort to seem at ease, took entire possession of the hearthrug. "I'll run and bring him back. Twice he cleaned the old briar; still there was no improvement. Wood. The material cares of life hang about your neck like a millstone. I ate only enough to keep body and soul together. "By George!" he exclaimed. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. I want to love him. You’re a far cry from your usual gloomy self these days.
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