Little by little, she stopped hating him. 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. “Now you must go,” she said firmly. Wild is a friend of yours, I'm sorry for what I said. Sheppard, bitterly. I'm glad to recognise you.
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