From under his pillow he dragged forth the key to the trunk. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. "I thought as much," continued Jonathan. 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. Sanguine they were not.
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