"Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. Hill, Meysey Hill. She packed her backpack with a change of clothes, some rags, and her old length of piano wire. ’ ‘Don’t tell me,’ exploded his second-in-command. He was sickeningly aroused by their hands as he slipped in and out of consciousness. Well might she do so, Gerald thought in irritation. Every inch of the house felt safe to her, small and welcoming. In lieu of the substantial habitations which he had gazed on overnight, he beheld a row of falling scaffoldings, for such they seemed. "Ye-ah," said O'Higgins, jovially.
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