He stood before her. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. “With your permission,” he said to Anna, “I shall arrange a bed for him where he is. ‘And me?’ ‘Oh, you’re mad because you wish to blow off my head. Mrs. She lay still for a long time, and her mind resumed at a more tolerable pace. The walls were bare, and painted in stone-colour; the floors, devoid of carpet; the beds, of hangings; the windows, of blinds; and, excepting in the thief-taker's own audience-chamber, there was not a chair or a table about the premises; the place of these conveniences being elsewhere supplied by benches, and deal-boards laid across joint-stools. " "Would you like to have me read to you?" He did not answer. Opening the door, he found it littered with straw, on which he threw himself, and instantly fell asleep.
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