"Rowland," she said, in a faint voice, "I have not many minutes to live. I must practise what I preach. ’ ‘Do you indeed?’ rejoined the old lady, twinkling at him, and urging him towards the door. In this cell was a huntsman, who had fractured his skull while hunting, and was perpetually hallooing after the hounds;—in that, the most melancholy of all, the grinning gibbering lunatic, the realization of "moody madness, laughing wild.
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