‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so. 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. Her fingers clutched the side of the door as though to steady herself. He was suddenly calm. He began to tell me something—and stopped. 101 He was a delightful teacher.
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