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"Everything was done, but it was no use. She died in a year in a 'sylum." "How do you know that?" "How do I know that?" he repeated in a tone of contempt. "How do I know that? Well, I'll tell you how. My old wife was in service at Brassington's station at the time the oldest servant an' young Brassington wired to her from Sydney to come and help him in his trouble.
"I will not have Gay protectioned and reliefed, and I will not be taken away from her and sent to a 'sylum, where I can never find her again!" and with these defiant words trembling, half spoken, on his lips, he glanced from the unconscious form in the crib to the terrible door, which might open at any moment and divide him from his heart's delight, his darling, his treasure, his only joy, his own, own baby Gay.
And when I asked him if I must go away he said I must not." "Th' world's comin' to a end!" gasped Martha. "What is the matter with him?" asked Mary. "Nobody knows for sure and certain," said Martha. "Mr. Craven went off his head like when he was born. Th' doctors thought he'd have to be put in a 'sylum. It was because Mrs. Craven died like I told you. He wouldn't set eyes on th' baby.
Sir Launfal would have popped Jonesy into a 'sylum when he first started out to find that gold cup, but when he came back he'd 'a' worked like a horse getting up a benefit for him, and would have divided his own home with him, if he hadn't been living at his grandmother's, and couldn't." An amused smile went around that part of the audience which overheard Ted's shrilly given explanation.
They'll be worried to death, missing a child like this, and at night, too." But Anne was now ready to explain cheerfully. "I haven't any folks not any real folks of my own now," she said. "Mother is dead and father is dead. Uncle Carey got lost, I reckon. I used to live here. Mr. Patterson took me to a a orphan 'sylum, Mrs. Marshall calls it.
"George," said Judge Baggs, with considerable asperity, "ef you are an Englishman, try to speak your native tongue, an' explain what you mean by actin' ez ef you'd jes' broke out of a lunatic 'sylum. Speak quick, or I'll fine you drinks for the crowd." "Just as lieve you would," said the unabashed Briton, "seein' seein' Chestnut's got a female a woman a lady cashier there!
Morton's 'sylum." "Now see here," said Lady Dudleigh, making a fresh effort, and trying to be as cool as possible, "I am Lady Dudleigh. I have been brought here by a trick. Dr. Morton is deceived. He is committing a crime in detaining me. I am not mad. Look at me. Judge for yourself. Look at me, and say, do I look like a madwoman?"
He's got an uncle in a 'sylum. You come up too, my girl." He went in search of Ben, oblivious of the fact that his daughter, instead of following him, came no farther than the door, where she stood and regarded her victim compassionately. "I'm so sorry," she said "Does it smart?" "A little," said the mate; "don't you trouble about me."
And when I asked him if I must go away he said I must not." "Th' world's comin' to a end!" gasped Martha. "What is the matter with him?" asked Mary. "Nobody knows for sure and certain," said Martha. "Mr. Craven went off his head like when he was born. Th' doctors thought he'd have to be put in a 'sylum. It was because Mrs. Craven died like I told you. He wouldn't set eyes on th' baby.
There's not one of them that believes they're mad." "But I'm not mad at all," said Lady Dudleigh, indignant at the woman's obtuseness. "There, there; don't you go for to excite yourself," said the woman, soothingly. "But I s'pose you can't help it." "So this is a mad-house, is it?" said Lady Dudleigh, gloomily, after a pause. "Well, 'm, we don't call it that; we call it a 'sylum. It's Dr.
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