" The Wastrel advanced. ‘You are mad,’ Gosse uttered, and only just had time to get himself up from the floor. The overnight nervous strain began to tell; she became inattentive to the work before her, and it did not get on. " She kindled with sympathy. "Come down stairs directly, and let your mother look at your wrist. Regardless of the risk he incurred from some heavy stone dropping on his head or feet,—regardless also of the noise made by the falling rubbish, and of the imminent danger which he consequently ran of being interrupted by some of the jailers, should the sound reach their ears, he continued to pull down large masses of the wall, which he flung upon the floor of the cell.
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