. . She shattered the edifice he was building up of himself as a devoted lover, waiting only his chance to win her from a hopeless and consuming passion. He had now reached what was called the Lower Leads,—a flat, covering a part of the prison contiguous to the gateway, and surrounded on all sides by walls about fourteen feet high. “I have signed a statement that I shot myself; bad trade and drink, both true—both true. ’ He held out his hand to help the girl descend.
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