Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. " He then hurried Darrell down another short flight of steps, and entered a small chamber at the back of the house. ” TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: Typesetting and editing of the original book from which this e-text has been transcribed was inconsistent. My mother, I'm sure, didn't intend to hurt your feelings. Well-balanced, sane, wasn’t I? You never heard anyone call me a madman? I’m pretty near being one now, and it’s her fault.
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