Not to go to her is wickeder than if I had run away with my friend's wife. "At my first being acquainted with the place," says this writer, in the 'Miseries of a Prison,' "the prisoners, methought, walking up and down the Stone Hall, looked like so many wrecks upon the sea. I’m not to study, I’m not to grow. "Then I presume you've not been arrested?" "I have not," answered Wood firmly. Twice she smiled, but not unkindly. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him.
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