Take my child to—it is—oh God!—I am sinking—take it—take it!" "Where?" shouted Wood. He had him removed from the Condemned Hold, stripped of his fine apparel, clothed in the most sordid rags, loaded with additional fetters, and thrust into the Stone Hold,—already described as the most noisome cell in the whole prison. ” “We’ll have, thank God! ten myriad days to tell each other things. ’ ‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ he agreed soothingly, ‘and you may rail at me presently as much as you please.
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