"I suppose I was mistaken," returned Gay. “We have no airs and graces here, and my hat hangs from a peg in the passage. Jordan and Josiah. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years. I trust you will not accuse me of discourtesy if I express my pleasure that henceforth our ways will lie apart. I never forgive an injury. In this cell was a huntsman, who had fractured his skull while hunting, and was perpetually hallooing after the hounds;—in that, the most melancholy of all, the grinning gibbering lunatic, the realization of "moody madness, laughing wild.
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