Later, she understood his reasons; and it had now become habit. He left that arid rule clear of the least mist of refinement or delicacy. She's plenty clean below. Since the discovery of them, she had been madly eager to read these typewritten tales. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. He was confined in the Middle Stone Ward, a spacious apartment, with good light and air, situated over the gateway on the western side, and allotted to him, not for his own convenience, but for that of the keepers, who, if he had been placed in a gloomier or more incommodious dungeon, would have necessarily had to share it with him. "Only the dog," replied the rough tones of a man. And yet the secondary emotion was one of suspicion. If you knew anything about Canton ware, you were, as like as not, sorely tempted to stuff a teacup into your pocket.
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