His eyes were small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those of a fox. 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. ‘Me and the butler didn’t see eye to eye. “His back was towards me,” Anna said.
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