” Anna rose to her feet. Spurling, who had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch. The delight of the turnkeys was beyond all bounds; but poor Mrs. Spurling was no longer allowed to visit him; he was again loaded with irons; fastened by an enormous horse-padlock to a staple in the floor; and only allowed to take repose in a chair. I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain privileges. And now, my angel, that I am acquainted with your sentiments on this subject, I shall readily fulfil a promise which I made to your lamented parent, whose loss I shall ever deplore. “Contrarily, you are sitting on a sepulcher of death! It 30 is only a matter of time before the Pestilence strikes here again, Gianfrancesco.
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