We WERE thieves. 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'll make myself intelligible before I've done," rejoined Wild. " "Oh. I don't threaten idly, as you know. “Good, I’m so glad, Lucy.
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