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. ” There was silence between them. ” “You came to tell me this?” “I came for you,” he declared fiercely. She saw it, and checked without thinking. He had brought the shrubs down from Syria, and, strangely enough, they had prospered. We hide it bravely, but so it is. His father spoke for him.
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