They are born idiots, incurably insane. " "What for? What do you want of them?" "Why, they are … yours. I mean to have you! Don’t frown me off now. "You've got to kill me to get out of here alive. Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors unbarred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantaneously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped on.
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