Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. . The girl suppressed a chuckle that would have been inexplicable. 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. ” Lucy gestured to the Treehouse, which had been roofed and framed.
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