’ The sergeant’s air became positively avuncular. “Serves you right if I’d cracked your skull. I'll cable to-night, and in a few days we'll have some news. . It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream. She hated tricking Shari, whose joy for life was the only thing that made her naive enough to fall for laced iced tea or hot cocoa, depending on the season. 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. She had been careless.
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