The policeman raised his voice, slightly agitated. "The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment. “Of course he may merely have been telling her who we were, but I think it improbable. ‘My name’s NOT More, Mr. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books.
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