"By the powers!" he added, turning his lantern full upon the face of the captive, "he's a nice gennteel-lookin' kiddy, I must say. "What is it?" demanded the woollen-draper, as he returned to the table, and took up a glass. Meanwhile, the mob outside had prodigiously increased, and had begun to exhibit some disposition to riot. Nothing anyone could say or do would change him. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose.
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