Soot was everywhere, for the lamp would not stay trimmed in the gale. It doesn’t seem to matter. Satisfied, as he thought, that he had nothing to apprehend, the boy resumed his task, chanting, as he plied his knife with redoubled assiduity, the following—not inappropriate strains:— THE NEWGATE STONE. ’ ‘I have no game. The scanty furniture of the rooms corresponded with their dungeon-like aspect. ‘Allow me. But if he speaks—I fear what he may tell.
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