Well-balanced, sane, wasn’t I? You never heard anyone call me a madman? I’m pretty near being one now, and it’s her fault. Good-bye. On the day he carried the manuscript to Copeley's he brought back a packet of letters, magazines, and newspapers. But I don’t want to. "When is he to suffer?" she demanded, fixing her large black eyes, which burnt with an insane gleam, upon him. " "Nothing else?" "No.
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