Part 3 At last the evening was over, and Capes and his wife had gone down to see Mr. " Taking Jack into a shed behind the workshop the smith in a short time freed him from his fetters. Assessing him as harmless, she had remained friendly, albeit aloof. “Want to see my fangs?” She asked. 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. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella.
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