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. But was that enough? Dim, formless suspicions of something more vital wandered about his mind. ’ Joan nodded, her face still averted.
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