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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. McClintock does it; and he knows why. ” His eyes were closed. “You must come and see me some afternoon,” she said to him. But I tell you in return, I shall take no pains to hide myself.
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