On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. "I thought you were asleep. "This she-devil has got hold of the sack. . He was nearly wincing. "He shan't go," cried Edgeworth Bess, holding him by the other hand. While the watermen were contending with the eddies occasioned by the fall below the bridge, Jonathan observed a perceptible shudder run through Trenchard's frame.
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