There’s something about you, a little flavor of Will, I suppose, that makes one feel—good luck about you and success. I will be very well without him. I’ve bored you or something. "I can never get poor Tom's last look out of my head, as he stood in the Stone-Hall at Newgate, after his irons had been knocked off, unless I manage to stupify myself somehow. “Perhaps for myself I do not mind, but this man is sure to find out some day, and he will not like having been deceived. CHAPTER XXII.
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