No breakfast, he’s had no dinner, hardly a mouthful of soup— since yesterday at tea. "How long shall I be here?" he asked. " As he said this, he moved forward a few paces, when, finding his feet glued to the ground by some adhesive substance, he stooped to feel what it was, but instantly withdrew his hand, with an exclamation of horror. I am the cause of his ill-usage. It was such an unexpected stroke of fortune.
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