“I know that our social order is dreadful enough,” he said, “and sacrifices all that is best and most beautiful in life. The monster, Wild, when he visited my dungeon last night, told me, to add to my misery, that she occupied a cell near me. A row of magnificent, and even then venerable, elms threw their broad arms over this pleasant spot. One glance through the window at that picturesque head had been sufficient. Don't you hear how you've made it cry?" "Throttle the kid!" rejoined Blueskin, fiercely. I am guilty practically of the impertinence of coming to ask you whether I misunderstood your sister.
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