"Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely. With his chisel so fine, tra la! "There!" cried the boy, leaping from the stool, and drawing back a few paces on the bench to examine his performance,—"that'll do. " "More blood! more blood!" cried Trenchard, passing his hand with agony across his brow. "What is your name?" "Ruth. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.
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