It was a dull, foggy day, and the atmosphere was so thick and heavy, that, at eight o'clock, the curious who arrived near the prison could scarcely discern the tower of St. ’ ‘That old fool? Why my brother kept him on I shall never know. Poor Ruth: for a father, a madman; for a husband—a thief! Spurlock rocked his body slightly. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father.
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