"Oh! nothin' partickler—mere curossity," replied Terence. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. Even the chattering monkeys, parrots, and parrakeets departed the fruit groves for the smelly dark of the jungle. That her husband was not touching her anymore grew to be like a disease, something to be cured. The Chapel was situated in the south-east angle of the jail; the ordinary at the time of this history being the Reverend Thomas Purney; the deputy chaplain, Mr. ‘I’m following a scent. That's a most damnable lie; and when she finds out, 'tis then she will not forgive.
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