"I should think so," responded the lethargic turnkey, with a yawn. In the centre of the upper gallery was a spacious saloon, appropriated to the governors of the asylum. I think I asked if I could eat lunch with her and Trisha Deere one day and she said there was no room at the table. Hoddy! All her fears fell away. ‘One of your countrymen, perhaps?’ The girl clammed up, the moon of her white face staring up at him in the darkness.
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