" "Everything. Mrs. \"This is my best friend, Mark. Wood trembled. "We never suffer him to mention Mr. She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. Certainly I cannot kill you if you tell me to do so. I am shockingly poor. “Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. Here, without a glimpse of daylight; visited by no one except Austin at stated intervals, who neither answered a question nor addressed a word to him; fed upon the worst diet, literally mouldy bread and ditch-water; surrounded by stone walls; with a flagged floor for his pillow, and without so much as a blanket to protect him from the death-like cold that pierced his frame,—Jack's stout heart was subdued, and he fell into the deepest dejection, ardently longing for the time when even a violent death should terminate his sufferings. It is nothing at all for you to worry about.
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