Gerald raised his cockaded hat, and smiled. In this cell was a huntsman, who had fractured his skull while hunting, and was perpetually hallooing after the hounds;—in that, the most melancholy of all, the grinning gibbering lunatic, the realization of "moody madness, laughing wild. “Nor am I now,” he answered. So she married him. ‘Why?’ Melusine eyed him dubiously.
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