’ Hilary stared. . ” “You are not yourself to-night, Courtlaw,” Ennison said. In this state, he was laid upon a bench, to sleep off his drunken fit, while his wretched mother, in spite of her passionate supplications and resistance, was, by Blueskin's command, forcibly ejected from the house, and driven out of the Mint. But it sounds too real to be imagined. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy.
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