He needed to laugh, but only she laughed as he chuckled weakly. 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. Melusine felt the calloused hand grasp around hers. Gerald grinned. One doesn’t realize that even the sort of civilization one has at Morningside Park is held together with difficulty.
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