Dear God, what a beautiful moment!" The fire went out of Spurlock's eyes and the shadow of hopeless weariness fell upon him. ’ ‘You mean the bookroom, miss. ” He would follow with a long discourse on biology, uninvited. 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. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. " "Sir," said the chief turnkey, indignantly.
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