" "A capital caricature that," remarked Thornhill, laughing. Her cheeks seemed to burn, her veins ran riot, and her heart was beating so fast that she was sure he must feel it through his scarlet coat. For that matter, my future be damned. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud.
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