This horrible piece of deformity, who acted as drawer and cellarman, and was a constant butt to the small wits of the jail, was nicknamed the Black Dog of Newgate. I might as well be at Morningside Park. Manning,” she said, “for a time—Will you tell no one? Will you keep this—our secret? I’m doubtful—Will you please not even tell my aunt?” “As you will,” he said. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. Not a word had been exchanged between the two boys on the road. If I surprised her, if I saw her alone, I might make her understand. "No such thing," rejoined Thames.
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