"Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. There all the loose characters thronged, assignations were openly made, and the spectators diverted themselves with the vagaries of its miserable inhabitants. 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. As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below. “I am getting plain,” she said, with a little shudder. Lucy looked down, noticing that Michelle had left her shoes in the entryway.
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