The picturesque scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at the thought of such genius gone to pot. Given time and the right environment, and he would outgrow these defects. He was walking listlessly along, well-dressed, debonnair, good-looking. " "How so?" asked the other, distrustfully. The monster, Wild, when he visited my dungeon last night, told me, to add to my misery, that she occupied a cell near me.
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