" "Couldn't … couldn't I go with you this afternoon?" "Too hot. Do you think we could manage that old clothesman between us, if we got out of this box?" "I'd manage him myself, if my arms were free," replied Thames, boldly. 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. . Lucy felt her eyes misting up, turning traitor.
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