“Don’t you care for Mr. His first inquiries were concerning the child, and he was delighted to find that it still lived and was doing well. ” He paced the room for a minute or two restlessly. The floor was planked with oak, and covered with iron staples, hooks, and ringbolts, with heavy chains attached to them. “Who do you think cares for your children as you dally with my husband, Clotilde?” Lucy asked. As the day wore on, the crowds diminished,—many who would not submit to the turnkey's demands were sent away ungratified,—and at five o'clock, only two strangers, Mr. \"But nothing is going to happen.
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