It was too good to be true. The monster, Wild, when he visited my dungeon last night, told me, to add to my misery, that she occupied a cell near me. “You ass and imbecile, Ann Veronica! You female cad! Cad! Cad!. And as these things should always be treated as matters of business, I'll just draw up a memorandum of our arrangement. When a mere child she fixed her affections upon a youth named Thames Darrell, whom her father brought up, and who perished, it is supposed, about nine years ago; and she has determined to remain faithful to his memory. You make me angry, and I lie.
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