” “Why in Heaven’s name should I forget?” he cried. " Trenchard took up a pen. He would come swiftly to her aid, she knew it. Probably hadn't. 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.
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