" Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. "He is dying?" whispered Ruth. " Figg turned aside to hide the tears that started to his eyes,—for the stout prizefighter, with a man's courage, had a woman's heart,—and the procession again set forward. "Zounds! what's that!" he cried, as the noise of a scuffle was heard behind them. " "I should think not," observed Jonathan, who had some practice in the knight's moods, and knew how to humour him. Earles watched her anxiously. ” “Sounds interesting,” Ennison remarked. The windows were small, and strongly grated, looking, in front, on Kendrick Yard, and, at the back, upon the spacious burial-ground of Saint Giles's Church. “How can you know?” “I think—perhaps I am rather a cold-blooded person.
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