" "Wood's daughter, I suppose?" observed the other. Dollis Hill revisited. 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. There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand.
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