The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. He cupped her small hands in the bowl of his large ones and reassured her in the kindest manner, saying, “You will have the finest life that Florence has to offer. Wood, who had merely absented himself to see that a public breakfast, which he had ordered at the Six Bells for all who chose to partake of it, was in readiness. Knives were worse, especially when you were stabbed back and left traces of your own blood at the crime scene. At this moment, the bell of Newgate began to toll, and was answered by another bell from St. . She had money of her own—much more than I have—and there was no need to squabble about that.
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