He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. " So saying, he re-entered the house, closed the door, and, followed by the widow, proceeded to the fire-place, where a handful of chips, apparently just lighted, crackled within the rusty grate. At last, after a long rumbling journey in a stuffy windowless van, she reached Canongate Prison—for Holloway had its quota already. \"Cool. “After all, why should he be surprised?” she remarked. It’s John.
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