Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. “I want to speak to you about a little thing, Vee,” said Mr. He shrugged and, to Gerald’s relief, made to leave at last. 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. A small brickbat was thrown, which struck Jonathan in the face. There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. “Do it now. “Well,” he said at last slowly, “I’ll pay it. He knew that at this moment Ruth lay upon her bed in torment, for she was by nature tender; and the reaction of her scathing words, no matter how justifiable, would be putting scars on her soul.
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