Spurling. I have counted you, and always hoped to count you, the best of my friends. "At my first being acquainted with the place," says this writer, in the 'Miseries of a Prison,' "the prisoners, methought, walking up and down the Stone Hall, looked like so many wrecks upon the sea. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. Ramage,” she said, sharply, “I have to make it plain to you.
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