“Come,” he said, “you can’t be meaning to bury yourself. " "Is she alive?" repeated the widow. The sun was setting in spectacular multicolored streams beyond Whitefield Park. We both understood that. With a small saw, conveyed to me a few days since by Thames Darrell, which I contrived to conceal upon my person, I removed a spike in the hatch, and, with the aid of some other friends, worked my way out. Unlocking several doors, he came to a dark vault, that would have rivalled the gloomiest cell in Newgate, into which he thrust Thames, and fastened the door. It was not only that her father had said all sorts of inconsistent and unreasonable things, but that by some incomprehensible infection she herself had replied in the same vein.
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