Why do you think I’m indulging in all this very un-English love talk?’ ‘But you are idiot, Gérard. How dare you use my name and sing my songs?” Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement. From the threshold she looked her accuser steadily and coldly in the face. Wood. 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. See paragraph 1.
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