Manning central in her mind. I thought if you were living, and not captured, I should find you here,—and I was right. 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. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. I did not choose to mention my knowledge of this fact to your worthy father; but you may rely on its correctness.
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