"At my first being acquainted with the place," says this writer, in the 'Miseries of a Prison,' "the prisoners, methought, walking up and down the Stone Hall, looked like so many wrecks upon the sea. Why? While the front of his mind was busy warning her not to fall into the hopeless miseries of underpaid teaching, and explaining his idea that for women of initiative, quite as much as for men, the world of business had by far the best chances, the back chambers of his brain were busy with the problem of that “Why?” His first idea as a man of the world was to explain her unrest by a lover, some secret or forbidden or impossible lover. His chest heaved violently, and big tears coursed rapidly down his cheeks. " "For every hurt she has, I shall have two. I must have been very wound up. 'Avow nothing, believe nothing, give nothing for nothing,' is my own motto. You are in the right to be cautious, till you know with whom you have to deal; and, even then, you can't be too wary.
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