156 He followed, “Um, is it okay if we talk in private for a few minutes somewhere?” Cathy was quick to reply. The confirmed drunkard's mouth at length sets itself peculiarly; it becomes the mark by which thoughtful men know him. 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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