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, to surrender himself.
"Humiliationship!" he exclaimed, and pressed one fist of his brooding brow. His captors, he said, had despaired of holding him, though when he'd seen what carnage ensued from his generous intentions, he'd declared himself willing to be jailed for: not only had several of the beasts necessarily been shot, but some had eaten others, and many of the more exotic were doomed to perish for want of their customary food and environment. A debate had followed on how best to punish him (a regular court-trial was out of the question because of his father's position); and seeing his superiors deadlocked, he generously volunteered them the means painfullest to himself -- a cell lined with mirrors instead of bars. So strong was his aversion to any reflection -- an antipathy he could not account for, at least in our language -- that such a cell would need no lock at all to contain him: he would be frozen in its center with his eye shut.
I interrupted: "You have a thing about mirrors too! Isn't that curious! Did you know that Peter Greene, the man you fought with at Stoker's --"
Officials shushed me, lest the prisoner stop talking.
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