‘Woof!’ uttered Trodger, gazing at the lady in some awe. He recognized the face instantly. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. Andrew's Church, his pursuers had gained the bridge, and the attention of such passengers as crowded the streets was attracted towards him by their vociferations. She turned on the lad with her, who was visibly relieved.
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