"I can never get poor Tom's last look out of my head, as he stood in the Stone-Hall at Newgate, after his irons had been knocked off, unless I manage to stupify myself somehow. It was the grand nursery of vice. 1. As absurd as that you take this interest in my affairs. He was certain that those lips of hers had never known the natural and pardonable simper of youth. Annabel saw it, and suddenly changed her tone. The destroying angel hurried by, shrouded in his gloomiest apparel. . In a second the glass lay shattered upon the carpet. Wood hadn't struck me. I hope you won’t mind if I say first that I think it does me an extraordinary honor that you should think of any one like myself so highly and seriously, and, secondly, that I wish it had not been written. Alcohol— would you believe it?—steadies his nerves and keens his brain: which is against the laws of gravitation, you might say.
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