The Governor had already supplied me with writing materials, and I had begun to draw up a list of books I might require, which I intended to send to Mr.Wheeler.
"Oh," said Mr.Bradlaugh, brusquely, "you need not send anything to Mr.
Wheeler; he's gone insane." "What!" I gasped.

The room darkened to my vision as though the sun had been blotted out.

The blow went to my heart like a dagger.
"Come," said Mr.Bradlaugh in a kinder tone, "if you take the news in that way I shall tell you no more." "It is over," I answered.

"Pray go on." I crushed down my feelings, but it was not over.

Mr.Bradlaugh did not know the nature of my friendship with Mr.Wheeler; how old and deep it was, how inwrought with the roots of my being.