His shouts for help were answered by roars of mockery and laughter. ‘I can take care of myself, bête. . He caught the smirk. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. Arrived there, their first object was to seek out Davies, by whom they were conducted to the lady's retreat,—a lone habitation, situated on the outskirts of Saint George's Fields in Southwark. "It's the boy's death-warrant," observed Jonathan, with a sinister smile.
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