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. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. He had reacted by laughing at her, informing her coolly that she was naïve in many things. “It is just six o’clock now. The impassivity of her features changed at last. She was perplexed by this, and stood for some seconds in the empty street hesitating, until the appearance of another circumspect woman under the street lamp at the corner reassured her. Old implements of housebreaking were discovered; and the thief-taker's most hidden depositories were laid bare. Who says that I am not Meysey Hill? I was trying to scare you.
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